Fall Apart
by Dedeen
Summary: My take on events that followed 7x09
1. Chapter 1

**Hailey's POV**

I'm angry and raw and tears quiver in the corners of my eyes. I hold still, trying not to fall apart, but when I look down at my hands, at the flecks of blood that stain my fingers, tears roll down my cheeks. Every cop in this hospital waiting room is silent and immobile, and the atmosphere is tense and depressed. I'm not a very religious person, but I find myself praying, whispering long, never-ending sentences to whomever is up there, pleading for my partner's life.

The sound of that single gunshot still echoes in my ears, and I'm sure it will take time for its deafening blast to fade. I ran so fast down the stairs that I almost tripped over my feet. I drew my gun and turned the corner and saw Jay lying flat on the ground, grunting in pain. A bright red spot was forming on his shirt and blossoming into a fist-sized stain just above his heart.

My heart dropped to my stomach; I felt shocked and disoriented. I rushed towards him, dropped to my knees, and applied pressure on the wound. _Stay with me, Jay. You're going to be okay_, I kept telling him. _Stay with me. _

Stay with me.

Everything after that passed in a blur probably because it didn't feel real. It was like I left my body and was hovering above it, watching everything unfold. Jay was fighting to remain conscious, but his eyes kept rolling back. It seemed to take forever for the paramedics to arrive, but when they did, Jay was still breathing. Shallow breaths, but still alive.

This was hours ago.

This endless waiting is making me nervous and restless. I get up and begin pacing back and forth in front of a window that looks out into the parking lot. Back and forth, back and forth. A car passes now and then. An ambulance pulls up to the ED. I try hard to not let myself think bad thoughts, but it's becoming an impossible feat as time trickles by.

Jay's brother, Will, eventually enters the waiting room and everyone rises, eager. He looks bleary, so out of it, that I stop in my tracks thinking the worse.

"The, um, bullet missed his heart, but it nicked his aorta and perforated his left lung." Will says. His eyes close for a moment against the pain that simple little statement causes. "They are currently trying to do everything they can to repair it and stop some of the bleeding elsewhere in his chest."

"Is he going to be okay," Voight asks.

Will's eyes glisten, he looks broken. He tries to control his face, but knows his sadness shows. "I don't know." Then, quietly, almost in a whisper, without making eye contact with anyone, he says, "Jay's in pretty bad shape."

My eyes blur and my arms and legs become very weak. The possibility that Jay won't pull through hits me hard. My thoughts become slow and rather incoherent. An overwhelming urge to cry swells fast within me, filling to the top of my throat. I try to swallow several times, grinding my molars to hold it down.

"What about Angela?" I hear Voight ask.

"She's stable. We were able to stitch her up and she's in observation right now."

Suddenly, I feel an overwhelming amount of rage at mention of her name. The heat of it courses through my veins and overtakes me from head to toe. I watch Voight mumble something to Adam and Kim and quickly approach, knowing I'm far from coherent.

"Are you going to question her?" I ask, hearing the hostility in my voice. I don't care to temper it.

"Yes," Voight answers. "I want to gauge what she knows."

"I'm going," I pipe up.

Voight shakes his head. "Kim and I got this, okay? You stay here."

My jaw clenches. Steam rises from my skin and pours out from between my lips, "There's no way you're benching me now. I can't sit here wringing my hands while Jay's blood is still on me."

"Hailey, you're too close. We can't go in there hot headed. We have to be smart. If she shot him—"

"—She shot him. She shot him while he was on his way to help her," I interrupt.

Voight pauses and pulls me aside, away from everyone. He runs a hand over his face. He looks like he aged twenty years since this morning. "I'm going to shoot straight with you. Angela probably shot Jay because he told her the truth about Marcus. If word gets out about what really happened, this could blow up in our faces."

I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him. Logic can't keep the lid on my boiling frustration. "I'm good, Sarge. My head is straight. Let me do my job."

Voight gives me no response, and when I glance at him, he looks as if he doesn't think the point is worth arguing with me. "You are sitting this one out and that's final."

Voight walks away and I storm out and into the bathroom. I slam my hands against the wall. I feel a roller coaster of emotions—hurt, disappointment, anger, and sadness, exploding in my chest and clouding my vision. A strangled cry escapes me as I pound my fist onto a wall over and over again.

Then a pair of arms restrain me. It's Ruzek. He pulls me to him as my frustrated tears pour down my face. I sink and let my pain expose. "Voight is being unfair," I explain, my voice strangled with emotion. "He has no right to bench me right now."

"Voight is just trying to do what's best for the unit," Ruzek says softly.

I pull away unreasonably upset. "We are already a man down," I say spitefully. "He needs all hands on deck here. It's _my partner_ we're talking about."

He only nods his head in response. After a moment of silence, he asks, "You _really_ like him, huh?"

I have never been asked this question before and the direct way Ruzek asked it startles me; and the shocked look on my face has him back paddling, "Sorry, I didn't mean…Look, don't take this the wrong way, but you have to put your feeling aside here. Trust me, Voight is looking out for you too."

I don't say anything. He reads my silence and sighs. "I'm going down to the cafeteria. Do you want anything?"

"No, I'm good."

"Okay," he says and leaves.

I ponder over his question. In retrospect, I could have easily said no, but deep down I knew that was not the truth. I care deeply for Jay. I have pushed these feelings aside, tried to ignore them. But the truth is, the more I bury them, the more powerful they become. And now it is taking control of me no matter how much I fight it. I close my eyes, mentally cursing myself for being so incredibly reckless.

I return to the waiting room and I realize Ruzek was right. I have to regain better control over my emotions. I sit with these thoughts for a while, trying to reconcile them in my head.

x

The hours pass. A revolving door of cops come and go. At almost four a.m., a surgeon enters the waiting room and explains that Jay made it through surgery, but is in critical condition. The blood loss combined with the trauma were too much and he's lapsed into a coma. I continue to listen to him, but his words become blurred since my only thought right now is that Jay is still alive.

I breath a sigh of relief and close my eyes, feeling the tightness in my chest unwind just a little.

"Can we see him?" I hear myself asking.

The surgeon nods. "Yes, he is recovering in the ICU."

Jay's ICU room is on the seventh floor. I stand outside his room taking deep breaths to calm my anxious thoughts. A soon as I enter the room and see what is supposed to be Jay lying on the bed I have to gasp to breathe. My heart sinks and tears unleash because of the utter shock at the sight.

Jay is lying there, looking gray and lifeless, with a breathing tube between his lips that runs from his mouth to a ventilator. Blood is still caked in his hair and all over his face, and his left eye is so swollen that it doesn't look like an eye anymore. There are multiple fluid IVs hanging above the bed like a nightmarish cobweb. Monitors frame his headboard, and there are so many machines hooked to him that I momentarily wonder if his body is doing anything at all.

I walk towards his bed and link my finger with his, careful to avoid the IV line. His fingers are limp and cold, and I tuck the blanket over them, still gripping his hand in mine. I'm so undone by everything that I can't find the words, can't think, only know that I feel angry—angry with him for not listening to me, angry with myself for not saving him.

"Why didn't you listen to me, huh?" I tell him. "This was bigger than you and you should've just let it go. When are you going to get through your thick head that you can't right every wrong?" I pause. Am I really mad at him for trying to do the right thing? For having a big heart? Aren't those the exact qualities that pulled me to him in the first place?

I swallow and sigh, closing my eyes.

"You have no idea how awful these past twenty-four hours have been," I say softly, slightly purged of my anger. "Everyone is really worried about you. So you better heal up fast because I don't want to get stuck with another partner." I run my fingers through his hair unable to keep tears from rolling down my cheeks. "You better be okay," I tell him, squeezing his hand. "You have to be."

My thoughts clear and I realize all doubt is gone with regard to how I feel about him. I've fallen for him and there's no denying it. But it's so complicated and big and I don't know what to do about it.

"Are you putting me through the ringer on purpose so that I can finally face my feelings for you?" I ask him and after a beat I whisper, "It worked."

I sit by Jay for a few minutes before Will walks in. He looks disheveled, tired, raw in a way I've never seen before. I sit up and discreetly wipe at my eyes.

"You look exhausted," he says.

"I am," I reply.

"You should rest."

"You should too," I counter.

"Touché," he says with a smile that does not reach his eyes.

The room falls quiet; the only sound comes from the rhythmic whooshing of the ventilator. We sit for some time until I am finally able to choke out the question that's been gnawing at me. "What's the prognosis?" I ask directly. "Tell me the truth."

He releases a sigh, "It's not good. His heart rhythms are still a bit erratic and his blood oxygen levels are low. We are doing everything we can, but..."

I hear the sound of my heart shatter, but I state with as much conviction I can muster. "Jay is strong. He'll pull through," I say, more to convince myself than anything else. "Have you met someone more stubborn?"

Will releases a sad chuckle. "Nope." His eyes glisten and his mouth pulls into a real smile. "When we were kids and got in trouble, mom would tell us to sit until we were ready to talk about whatever we'd done wrong. For me that was usually took a few minutes. But Jay…" Will shakes his head and chuckles. "He would sit for hours, sometimes until after dinner."

I smile, probably my first real smile of the day.

"He needs to make it through," Will says, tenderly touching his brother's arm. But his smile fades, replaced by a tight mouth and sharply drawn cheeks. "He is all the family I have left."

I risk a glance at Will. The admission deflates him. I want to reach over and touch his arm to comfort him. "Jay is not going anywhere," I assure him and myself. "He knows I will kick his ass if he does."

Will nods.

We sit in silence—hoping Jay is listening.

* * *

**Thanks for reading. Trying to decide if I should continue or leave it here. Thoughts? Also, would anyone like to Beta for me if I do continue?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Part II**

**Hailey's POV**

The news of Marcus's wrongful death begins circling like a dark cloud after Angela is booked at Cook County. Her lawyers and the state department seem eager to make an example out of Jay – make him the face of a judicial system that holds everyone accountable. Voight and the team already know where I stand. If Crawford even thinks about making Jay a scapegoat of any sorts, I will make noise. A lot of it.

The only good thing is that Jay is none the wiser. He is still in a drug induced coma, critical, but stable now. There are good days and bad days, but it is all basically the same—he is still under and there is no telling when he will wake up. I come and sit with him whenever I can. I read somewhere that people in a coma can hear and it helps to talk to them. So I talk about the case, the day… just anything really.

I just want him to open his eyes and chide me about something, anything. I want him to come back and look at me with that goofy smile of his and ask me why I look worried. But Will tells me that waking up from a coma, even a drugged induced one, is a lot different than waking up from sleep. I just keep hoping Jay will open his eyes and be fine.

After another long day of trying act like everything is okay, I enter Jay's hospital room late one afternoon completely spent. The many machines beep their monotonous rhythms, but the room is otherwise still and silent. A strange feeling of heaviness weights down my heart, my body, drain my legs of their power. A feeling heavier than the weight of the whole earth, as though instead of standing above its surface, I'm now laying somewhere beneath it.

For a moment, I wish I were the one lying on the bed instead.

"Today would be a really good day for you to open your eyes, you know?" I tell Jay. He looks the same, but he feels a little warmer than usual. His hair sticks to my fingers as I brush my hand through it. "I could use a little pick me up. But I know you're going to do what you want either way, so…"

I take my seat next to his bed and straighten my shoulders. The fluorescent light buzzes above, nearly drowning the sound of the rain pelting outside. I take a deep breath and feel the weight on my head lift a little. Somehow, I doze off for a moment, only to wake up to a sea of nurses and doctors scurrying around. There also an unfamiliar loud beeping filling the air.

"W-What's happening?" I blink, my mind foggy. I feel panic rising.

I make an attempt to go to Jay, but something slows me down, telling me to stop. A hand is grabbing my arm, dragging me out of the room.

"Let's give room for the doctor to work."

"No," I jerk away, "What's going on with him? Is he going to be okay?" I sound a little shredded, even to myself, and I'm sure this is what this nurse is thinking. I don't care.

"The doctors are trying to find out, okay? Let's step outside."

I'm forced to wait out in the hallway. After a while I sit down on the cold floor, pull my knees to my chest, and rest my chin on them. I watch nurses come and go, but they refuse to look at me. No one is telling me anything. I try not to picture Jay's pale, lifeless face, but I can't think of nothing else.

Then Will comes, running down the hallway as fast as he can. A number of emotions are visible on his face: worry, fear, grief.

"Oh Hailey, what happened?" He asks almost bumping into me.

I pull myself up. "I-I don't know… I was asleep, then I woke up and t-there were nurses and beeping and I was told I had to leave... They haven't said anything," I say, keeping at least some of my frustration out of my voice.

Will nods, gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze, and walks hastily into Jay's ICU room.

I'm so tense right now I could throw up. My hands feel clammy, my heart's beating fast, I have a huge headache now. After waiting for what seems like ages but probably wasn't that long, Will comes out of the room. He looks like he's seen a ghost. It takes him a moment, but he manages to compose himself enough to tell me that Jay's kidneys are failing and that they are hooking him to another machine for the night to help filter his blood.

It takes me a second to process his words, and when I do, I don't recognize the sound that comes out of my throat. "Wait? What's happening? What does his kidneys have to do with anything?" I ask. This doesn't make any sense.

Will releases a huge sigh. "His kidneys are failing because his heart is having a tough time pumping blood fast enough to get blood to the kidneys to flush the toxins out of his body. So, toxin levels became dangerously high."

"I-Is he going to be okay?" I ask.

"We have to wait and see. The dialysis machine should give his kidneys a break."

I should feel some relief, but I don't. A wave of crippling fear creeps up in my spine. "Will," I say. "He is not getting better, is he?"

"This is common for patients with heart related issues. An injury to his aorta is an injury to his heart." Will's voice is hollow and distant, as if he scrubbed all emotion from it. "Sometimes it gets worse before it gets better."

"Do you really believe that?" There is an unintended bite in my tone and I immediately regret it. "I'm sorry, it's just… I just want people to shoot straight with me."

"I've had patients worse off than Jay come back."

Will's optimism forms a lump in my throat. I can see he is hurting as much as I am. But it is easier to cling onto a tiny thread of hope than face the reality. Hope is a powerful coping mechanism and Will Halstead is using to ward off despair.

We are allowed back into Jay's room after everyone leaves. I see the dialysis machine – hard to miss. It occupies the space I used to sit. I approach the bed and Jay looks worse off, his skin is pale, his lips blanch as if life is slowly draining out of him. I put my hand to his head and if it was warm earlier, it's downright steamed up now.

I'm swimming trough too little sleep. I sit down by Jay and put my head in my hands. I'm too tired to cry, too overwhelmed to think and much too angry to give myself over to the peace that comes from sleep.

_Stay with me, Jay. Stay with me. _

x

For the first time, I come into Jay's room and I don't want him to wake up. I want him to stay asleep and oblivious to what's happening. Although Voight tried to keep a lid on everything, it's all imploding. Our many attempts to discredit Angela and her claims have failed, and a news outlet has picked up the story. The idea that Jay will wake up and not have his badge nearly kills me inside.

"Hey," I say taking his hand in mine. "It's okay if you want to snooze a few more days. I think it will be better if you do." I look at his face and his stubble is currently turning into a full beard. "I wish I had some good news, but I'm afraid I don't."

I sit down and continue to watch all the machines beeping around him. I've gotten so used to them. They don't look foreign or menacing anymore. Later, Ruzek and Atwater stop by, then Burgess and Trudy visit for a while.

"How is he?" Trudy asks.

"The dialysis worked and his kidneys are good now," I say. "He is doing better," I add, but my tone betrays my words.

"If he needed time off, he could've just asked," Trudy says with a wry smile, trying to lighten the mood.

It doesn't.

"He is going to be okay," Kim assures me.

We fall silent. After a while, Kim breaks the silence. "You know, this one time Jay got a bounty on his head. I remember this vividly because I was still a rookie in blues," Kim says. "Voight assigned my partner and I to babysit him."

"I'm sure that went well."

"As well as you can imagine."

"How did this happen? I've only ever seen big wigs get bounty on their heads," I ask.

"Well, this low life criminal, Oscar Bembenek, put a hit on Jay's head after a deal went south and Jay popped his brother."

Kim goes on to tell about Oscar's hit list and how bodies of family members involved in the Bembenek trial began to drop. Everything that happened after is off the books because Jay offered himself up as bait to draw out the shooter. But the deal went sideways when the hitman working with the team turned on them.

"They could have killed him," I gasp, realizing how completely absurd it was, though very on brand with Jay.

"Yeah, but we apprehended the shooter and everything worked out in the end."

"How much was the bounty?" I ask.

"100 grand."

"I'm surprised none of you tried to take him out."

"I was tempted," Trudy pipes up.

We chuckle, the room falls silent again. It isn't an uncomfortable silence, but the air is thick with a tension I can't quiet put my finger on. Perhaps it is merely the notion that Jay might not come back to us and all we'll have left are these stories.

Trudy and Kim urge me to go home and rest a bit, but I decide to stay. They understand and they don't fight me on it too much.

"But you really should take a break," Kim says. "You're exhausted."

"I will be alight," I say, but the half smile I wear can fool not one, and I can't make it go away.

"Well, let us know if anything changes," Kim says. "I will come back in the morning and I will stay with him so you can get break," she adds. "He won't be alone."

I smile gratefully, she understands.

Later that night I'm woken up by what I think is the sound of someone moaning. I lift my head and look to Jay and see that his mouth is quivering around the breathing tube. I jump from my seat and go to him. I take his hand and squeeze it.

"Hey Jay, can you hear me. Jay?"

The low pitch moaning comes again. It's low, so low it is as if it's confined to his chest. I lower my ear to get a better listen. I swear, I hear him moaning. I find it hard to contain my excitement. It's happening. Jay is waking up!

Then his fingers flutter slightly. I link them in my hand. He moans again and, with great effort, he raises his heavy eyelids only the slightest bit. He can't focus his eyes and they keep rolling around. He looks like someone peering into the sun for the first time after spending a week underground. Then, it seems that Jay becomes aware of the tubes attached to his body and the sounds of the machine begins to register in his ears. He becomes almost frightened, jerks his hand from mine, and tries to jerk the tube from his mouth.

His sudden movement startles me. I barely have time to feel any sort of happiness because I'm grabbing his hand to keep him from removing the tubes.

"Hey Jay, you're fine. Everything is okay," I say.

I guess the sound of my voice calms him a little. He stops clawing at the tubes and looks directly at me, though his eyes are still unfocused.

"Everything is going to be alright," I try to assure him and buzz for a nurse.

With what little strength he has, Jay gives my hand an ever so faint squeeze. I can tell he is fighting to keep his eyes open. The notion that Jay is finally coming out of the coma sits warmly with me. I feel a sudden rush of happiness, the kind of happiness that makes your heart beat faster, makes your cheeks hot and red, happiness that makes you nervous and over excited, happiness that make you feel alive. Every cell in my body feels this, and I smile, with moist eyes.

Grabbing his hand in mine once more, my smile spreads from ear to ear, I choke down the lump in my throat and say, "I've missed you."

A nurse comes in and assess Jay's responsiveness, but he is back under. He doesn't respond to my voice and doesn't open his eyes again.

"That's good, right?" I mean that's a great sign."

The nurse squeezes my arm, "It's a very good sign. I'm going to call the doctor."

The doctor comes in five minutes later and says, "Stimulus response. That is very nice."

"That means he's waking up, right?" I ask.

"It can mean that, yes." There is caution in his voice. It irks me a little. I want him to tell me it's all going to be okay now and he's not doing that.

"It can, meaning…"

"That sometimes it is a sign of recovery. Yes."

"But not always."

"No, not always. But it is a very good sign."

I feel like I finally received a gift, but it's trashed. The doctor leaves and I stare at Jay and will him to wake up. Just wake up. But he doesn't. Bu it's okay. I feel more at peace now, at least, because I'm no longer thinking the worst.

* * *

**Thanks for reading and for your lovely reviews. I guess I will continuing with this one! Cheers!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Part III**

**Hailey's POV**

Jay is waking up.

He spends a few minutes a day blinking his eyes and looking around, disoriented and confused. I can see the frustration of not being able to express himself is slowly building up inside of him, making the monitors beep a little faster. At least the worse is over and he is on a road to recovery. It will be a slow process, but all signs are good.

The wave of panic I had experiences before, when Jay was first brought in to the hospital, is now gone, replaced by and overwhelming feeling of fear. Fear mixed with anger, confusion and aggravation. Jay is officially under investigation by internal affairs. I don't know how I'm going to break it to him, but I know it has to come from me.

It's the end of another long day and I go sit with Jay for a while. It's almost therapeutic for me to just talk to him.

"It's not looking good," I whisper. "Crawford doesn't seem to be on our side, and he is going to throw the whole team under the bus the first chance he gets."

A few quiet moments pass, then Jay's eyelids flutter a little – did he hear me? I think for a moment he might wake up, but then he stills again. Bitterly disappointed, I feel tears burn behind her eyelids. I seem to be knee deep in emotional energy and I feel like I've become an emotional basket case.

"Ah-hmm," I hear Jay murmur, his free hand going to the tubing taped to his mouth.

I wipe my eyes and nose on the sleeve of my shirt and watch him blink his eyes, looking like a child that woke up from a nightmare in a strange place.

"Jay," I try to grab his focus, but his eyes whip back and forth in confusion.

"Jay, you're in a hospital," I say and his blue eyes finally find mine, but his tense posture still does not relax. The heart monitor bleeps from the jump in his heart rate. Gently, I take his hand in mine and squeeze it. "You are okay. Everything is okay."

He relaxes a bit and the hard planes of his face softens. "Mm, hmm," he tries to speak and his mouth moves, forming indecipherable words. All silent, none of them comprehensible.

"Jay, don't try to speak. You have a tube down your throat helping you breathe."

He nods, but just barely.

Then his face pinches in pain and suddenly I wonder if that's what he was trying to tell me. "Hey, are you in pain?"

He nods again, slowly dragging his hand to his bandaged chest.

"Is it your chest? Let me get a nurse, okay?"

I buzz for a nurse. She comes seconds later and gives him pain medication through his IV. After a few minutes I see his body relax and any tenseness leave him.

"Better?"

He nods. I can see his eyes are heavy and I think he is going to let go, but he fights the urge to close them. This is the longest he's been awake and somewhat present. I raise his hand to my lips and kiss it carefully, resisting the urge to cry.

"You have no idea how happy I am that you are okay," I say smoothly, trying to iron out my voice. I close my eyes and blink away the tears. "You scared the shit out of me."

He looks at me – eyes growing soft and unfocused – and runs his thumb gently over my knuckles. I've been trying to keep my emotions underneath the surface, however, this moment sends me reeling.

"I-If you ever pull another stunt like this, I'll shoot you myself! Do you understand me?"

He raises his eyebrow in that familiar sardonic expression and his lips curve ever so slightly around the tube. A smile? This feel huge.

"I'm serious."

Another faint smile drifts across his face before his eyes flutter close.

x

The following day I don't get to see Jay until much later in the afternoon, but when I get to his room Will and a couple of nurses are there. I spy Jay awake and propped up on the bed for the first time.

"Hey Will," I ask cheery. "What's going on?"

"Doctor Marcel gave the okay to remove his breathing tube."

"That's good news!" I say. "I bet it doesn't feel great to have that thing down your pipes."

I stand back and make myself small so as not to get in their way. Two nurses crowd around Jay and begin the gruesome process of removing the breathing tube. One nurse begins to pull an inner tube first, while the second nurse slowly tug at the outer tube. As they pull it gently out they ask Jay to cough. He does, but also begins to gag and wince. When the last few inches come out of his mouth, tears roll down his face.

He coughs, clutching his chest. "I-ma throw -p," is the first words out of his mouth. His voice is weak and a few notches higher than normal, as if he inhaled helium from a party balloon. Will then carefully turns Jay on his side as he empties the contents of his stomach in waves in a basin.

"That's it," Will urges. "Get it all out."

Jay's forehead and cheeks become covered with beads of sweat. His lips, I notice, are now slightly blue and his whole face twists in pain, although I can't tell whether it is because of his chest or his throat.

"Feeling better?" Will asks.

Jay flops back on the bed and lifts a sarcastic thumbs-up. He closes his eyes and relaxes his breathing, probably in an effort to suppress the burning feeling in his throat and chest.

Will looks at his younger brother with a big, unabashed smile and says, "Oxygen levels are great. You're doing really good."

I slowly approach the bed. Jay's sleepy eyes land on me I can see them brighten up just a bit.

"Hey," I say.

"Sorry you had…" he begins hoarsely, then breaks off, coughing again. "…to see that."

His voice is no more than a gravelly whisper. But Hearing him speak after all this time makes my brain short-circuit. "I-It's all good," I say. "I've seen worse."

His chest heaves as he draws a breath. "Glad…that's out."

I notice Jay is trying to keep his eyes open. "Hey, how about you rest for a bit. It's been an eventful day already."

He nods and closes his eyes, tries to open them, but closes them again. The heavy lids win. Jay is back in deep sleep almost immediately.

I pat his leg. "I will be right here."

After everyone leaves, numb exhaustion sets in and my legs give out. I collapse in a chair by Jay's bed and stare dazed, at the sleeping man who seems to be taking up a lot on space in my head and heart. Staring at his sleeping face, I lean closer to the bed and take his hand – it is cool despite the blankets they've heaped on him—in my own.

I sit for a couple of hours. The sun begins to set and I notice the nurses changing shift. My thoughts are in a swirl like a water vortex. There's so much he needs to know, but I don't know how to tell him.

Jay wakes up later feeling a bit better. He is able to swallow some water and drink some weird watery soup from the cafeteria.

"Everyone will be happy to know you're doing better," I say.

"Be back at the pen…soon," he says, his voice a bit steadier now.

My heart tightens and something seems to be stuck in my throat. "Y-You will be back in no time," I say, hoping I sound casual and nonchalant, but I hear the quaver in my voice.

I can tell that Jay has something on his mind. I stare at him feeling a sense of foreboding settling in like a hail-filled cloud.

"What is it?" I ask him.

"Angela?" Is all he says.

A trace of anger ripples over my face. I try to mask it – make myself appear indifferent. "She's at Cook County. Awaiting trial."

I watch the interplay of emotions across his face as he gropes for words, something that rarely happens to him. He runs his hand over his face and draws a determined breath to speak, "It's not her fault."

"She shot you. She's where she should be."

He shakes his head. "I need to talk to Voight," he rasps. "He's gotta help her."

His words weight like a cold stone in the pit of my stomach and makes me incoherent. "She shot to kill you and she almost did," I manage to choke out. "There is no helping her."

"Hailey…she was not in her right mind."

"She knew exactly what she was doing."

Jay looks like he wants to say more, but he holds his tongue.

I take a deep breath. "Look I know you guys went through something down there. I get it." I take his hand in mine. "But she tried to kill you. She grabbed a gun and shot you when her life was in no imminent danger."

"It was my fault…" The softness in his voice sends chills down my spine. "I'm to blame." There's something deeper and more personal in his admission and it seems to sink into the linoleum floors, permeating the room. "I told her the truth about Marcus, that he didn't kill those two boys—"

"—I know."

"I told her I was a cop and that I had arrested Marcus." The pace of his words increase as if he has to say it quickly or he won't be able to finish. "I told her everything – that we were wrong. That I was the one who put him in lockup." He draws a breath. "She shot me because she was angry and she had every right to be…" His eyes refocus on my face. After a beat he says, "I would have shot myself too."

The statement is flat and irrevocable. I watch the play of emotions ripple across his face. My throat tightens.

"Jay, listen to me. It doesn't matter the motive. She shot to kill you and she was almost successful. It's still manslaughter whether it was premeditative or not." I gentle my voice. "And you are not to blame. All the evidence pointed to Marcus and you had every right to treat him like the merciless bastard that shot two tender age boys. This in on the whole team."

Silence hangs in the air and the tension in the room is thick and sort of uncomfortable.

"Look, you are a great cop. Don't fall on a sword for something that's meant for someone else."

He sighs and shakes his head. "I'm surprised she hasn't said anything."

I wrestle with the idea of whether or not I should tell him the truth. I open my mouth but at the last minute, I change my mind. "That tends to happen when you're looking at life."

Jay nods and reaches for my hand. "Thanks for being here."

"Where else would I be?" I hear myself say and my cheeks flush.

Jay gives my hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb running lightly over my knuckles. He smiles, I smile too, and the mood lightens.

The team comes shortly after and a party ensures. Everyone in a cheery, happy mood, except for Voight. He lingers in the background, watching. He partakes in conversations here and there, but his mind seems to be miles away. I try not to read too much into it because I want to pretend that everything is fine. I want it to be fine so fucking much, that I guess I let myself have this moment.

x

I come early the hospital the next day to say a quick hello to Jay when Will stops me. I notice the worry etched on his face "Hailey, who are those cops in Jay's room?"

"What are you talking about?"

"There's like four of them and they are all inside his room right now. They don't look like regular cops either. Hailey, what's going on?"

I don't answer him because my legs are already sprinting to Jay's room. My head is spinning and a familiar anger begins coursing through my veins. My heart begins to pound so hard I involuntarily press my hand to my chest as though to hold it in. This can't be happening, I tell myself. I burst into his room looking frantic, but I don't care.

"Hey, what is going on here?" I ask, looking pointedly at the white shirts staring back at me.

"Detective Upton, would you mind giving us a moment?"

"You shouldn't be asking him anything without his FOP lawyer present," I blurt out.

"Why do I need my FOP lawyer?" Jay asks. Our eyes meet and he looks genuinely confused. They haven't told him anything yet. "What's going on here?"

The room falls silent for just a moment. "Detective Halstead, the state department is charging you for the false arrest and imprisonment of Marcus West."

"What?" Jay asks and looks at me for explanation. My face falls and I'm sure he sees all my anguish there.

"You are stripped of your duties and you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…"

I begin to lose myself in my anger. My heart pumps adrenaline though my veins, pushing me to my breaking point. My mind goes blank as an overwhelming amount of rage floods throws every aspect of my mind. I begin screaming out of anger. Words spill from my mouth until I'm being dragged out of Jay's room. Voight and the whole team arrive shortly after.

"Voight you have to do something!" I say. My rage rushes into my heart and it boils hotter as my eyes blur with tears.

"We have to sit tight."

"How can we sit tight? We've been sitting tight and looks where it got us!"

"Hailey—"

"Sarge, as soon as he is on his feet they are going to drag him to Statesville. He is in no position to defend himself."

"I'm not going to let that happen–"

Voight is interrupted by the door to Jay's room opening. The four white shirts step out looking detached and superior.

Harsh words are exchanged between Voight and them. I almost insert myself into the mix, but I find a pair of blue eyes staring at me from inside the room. It isn't the glassy look to them that breaks my heart. It is the calm resignation in them that tares me down. I want to walk into the room and let him see me without the mask and see all my anger, pain, and even my love. But I can't because the next thing I know we are all removed from the hospital and barred from returning.

* * *

**Thank you for all your lovely reviews! Will try to have part IV out as fast as I can type! Cheers!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Part IV**

**Hailey's POV **

After what transpired at the hospital, we retreated to the pen and Voight laid out a new plan. In short, we are going to drop the charges on Angela in exchange for her silence. Then we will back paddle and say one of the gang bangers came to and shot Jay. It's a win for both sides, except it isn't. Angela will go free and that will never sit right with me

At night, exhausted as I am I can't sleep. No matter how hard I try. I toss and turn and then I toss again. My mind is racing and a million thoughts are taking up my brain space. I try to unwind the crazy, jumbled mess of threaded thoughts, but I can't. When the morning comes, I look like death, if it had a face. Nevertheless, I get up, take a quick shower, and drive over to the hospital.

Outside of Jay's room are two police officers and it makes me furious—blood-boiling furious.

"Is this really necessary?" I say.

"We're just following orders."

Annoyed, I roll my eyes. I show them my badge and walk inside the room.

I find Jay gazing out the window, his brow furrowed. He looks pale and drained, his eyes red-rimmed and somehow very far away. "Jay?" I say cautiously. Feeling a little bold, I sit on the edge of his bed.

Jay turns and regards me for a minute, then quietly, he says, "Did you know?"

I look up at him. "I did."

His face breaks with a touch of anger in his eyes, "Why did you lie when I asked you about Angela? You should've been transparent with me the moment I opened my eyes." He shakes his head and motions with his head in the direction of the door. "Did Will know? Did everyone know?"

"No," I tell him. "We kept everything in house. Only the team was aware of what was happening."

His eyes glisten and the disappointed look on his face is a gut punch. He turns away, tugging at the white tape of the intravenous plastic tubing on his forearm.

"Jay, I'm sorry… please you have to understand," I whisper, my own eyes brimming as well. "I didn't tell you right away because I wanted to protect you. We almost lost you and you were still recovering…." My voice breaks in the end, and I swallow painfully. "I thought I should wait."

He runs both hands through his hair and leaves them in a tangled mess for a moment before bringing it back to his sides. The hospital gown slips from his shoulder and I can see the beginning of the incision on his chest; it looks red and raw against his pale skin.

"No, Hailey. No." His voice is quiet with restraint, and a shot of fear goes right through me. "You should have laid it all out. You didn't need to protect me."

"I'm your partner. I will always choose to protect you. Why do you think I followed you to that ballpark?"

In a tight voice, he says, "I screwed up, I know that. But I didn't deserve to be ambushed like that yesterday." His tone gets a little icy, and then he closes his eyes and swallows. "A heads up would've been nice."

"You are right," I shake my head as tears finally drop from my cheeks. "I should have told you. It wasn't right to keep you in the dark, but I had just gotten you back and…I couldn't bear to see you hurt again." Then I look straight at him and the words jump straight from my thoughts and out of my mouth, sort of bypassing my brain. "I care so much about you."

I stop breathing in shock at my own admission. The air around vibrates with the sudden silence between us. Oh, God…why did I say that? It is too late to take my words back? I watch a tear drop heavily to Jay's cheek. The damage is done. Can't go back now, even if I wanted to.

"Oh," he finally whispers.

I flip through my head trying to come up with something to say, but I have nothing.

"Look, I'm not mad at you. It's just misdirected anger." The look that covers his face almost frightens me. Sorrow, disappointment, almost anger. He looks defeated. He swipes his hand over the back of his neck. "I'm not even sure I should even be mad. I deserve those charges."

I grab his hand and hold it tight in front of us. "This is not on you. Crawford is using you as a scapegoat and you can't let that happen. You can't give in."

"My FOP lawyer thinks I should agree to a plea deal; it will bring the charges down to misconduct. I would only do a year, maybe less."

"No," I shake my head. "You are not accepting a plea bargain. You are not going down for this."

He cocks his head to the side. The hard edges of his face softens, but the sorrow still huddles in his eyes like empty shadows. "Hailey, I don't want the whole unit to go down. I'd rather it be me, than _you._ I also care _a lot_ about you." His thumbs brush aside tears from my cheeks, and when he brings his head back up, the crease above his eyes and the lingering way he looks at me tells me he wants to say more, but all he finishes with is, "It's _my_ turn to protect you."

I look at him, barely able to speak. "I won't let you."

"You don't have a choice," he whispers.

He gently strokes the hair away from my face, tenderly placing it behind my ear. The energy between us shifts, and I know exactly where this is headed. I feel him even before I feel his lips, and the instant they meet mine I feel like the world has caught alight. It is soft and sweet. It is tentative and deliberate all at the same time. He kisses me once, then again, and then a third time.

Then something happens to me. A strange awakening. It's like everything has been brought into focus and nobody and nothing else matters any more.

After a few minutes my lungs feel like they are going to burst in the absence of air, but in the best way. We break apart and just look at each other. I notice his hair is spiked up from him running his fingers through it earlier. I close my eyes and incline my forehead to rest against his. Frankly I need the prop— my head is spinning.

When I finally open my eyes, Jay smiles big and bright and I answer back with my own. A blush warms my cheeks as I try to get over the shock of his kiss.

"You okay?" He searches my eyes quietly, his breathing slow and a bit labored. He slides his hand around the back of my head and his thumb caresses over my cheek. I can tell the movement elicits a tinge of pain because it makes him clench his teeth a little.

"I'm good. You?"

"I've been better." Even though he has a full-watt smile on his face, I can see an ache is slowly filling his chest.

Jay leans back on the bed and the room falls silent for a moment or two before I say, "You can't give in. You have to fight this."

He reaches and takes my hand in his. I notice how warm they feel. "Everything is already in motion. I don't think we can stop it."

"You can start by not accepting a plea."

His fingers begin caressing the knuckles of my hand. "If it goes to trial, I run a chance of getting five to ten years."

"Look, the team is working on something. But you can't give in. Don't talk to anyone without your FOP lawyer, okay?"

Jay draws in a deep breath, pauses, then sits back and exhales. "Do I want to know what you guys are up to?"

"It's better that you don't. Just stick to the previous script. Marcus killed those boys."

Jay looks away with a despondent expression on his face. He lets his shoulder slump and his head hang down a little.

"Hey." I gently use my index finger to tip his chin up, guiding his gaze back to me. "You can't bring Marcus back. What's done is done."

Then he says softly, as if to himself, "I don't know if I can move past this."

"You will," I squeeze his hand reassuringly. "In time you'll learn to carry it with you."

He exhales heavily and swallows before plating a chaste kiss on my hand. We sit shoulder-to-shoulder on the tiny hospital bed, holding hands like two teenagers. After a few moments, his head slowly drops onto my shoulder, and without looking I can tell his eyes are closed.

"Jay… are you feeling okay?"

"Mm-hmm." I feel his head nod, then he adds, "But I'm a little tired…I think."

"You should rest a little then," I tell him.

Shortly afterwards, Jay's breathing evens out into sleep. I want this moment to stay. I want it to multiply. I want the feeling of our fingertips brushing to be engraved forever in my mind. Right now everything and nothing makes sense.

x

The next day, I don't go see Jay, but head to the pen. Right now my head is whirling with conflicting emotions and they clash inside me. I'm happy and sad, anxious and calm simultaneously. I don't know how to prioritize how I feel, and I'm emotionally and mentally ambiguous. I go from feeling nothing at all to suddenly feeling everything all at once.

I need to pull myself together.

As soon as I get up the stairs, Voight comes out of his office, a restless expression on his face, and says, "My source at the State's Department said they are going to try to charge Jay with involuntary manslaughter."

"W-What?" Anger rushes over and engulfs me.

"We can't wait anymore. We have to talk to Angela and make her back track her statement," Voight says.

"We can't just walk in to Cook County without raising red flags," Ruzek says.

"I can pretend I'm a journalist. I can get credentials. I know a guy. They won't bet an eye and Angela won't turn down my request to meet with me," I say.

Voight thinks for a minute. "How do you plan on convincing her?

"Appeal to her mother's heart. It's either she sees her son grow up or she rots in jail. I don't see how she wouldn't take it."

"Okay," Voight nods. "Set it up."

The very next day I'm walking inside Cook County with a pants suit and a media badge. As expected, no one bats an eye and I walk right in and into the visitation room. I wait for a while and my heart begins beating really fast, and I start to get nervous that Angela won't show up. But lo and behold, she walks in.

She looks me up and down. Her eyes hold a look of apathy and stoic indifference. "I know you. You're no journalist."

"No I'm not. And yeah, we met briefly at the warehouse when you shot my partner."

She chuckles cynically. "He dead yet? Cause if you ask me," she adds, "he got what he deserved." Her tone is low and menacing.

I take a deep breath and try to control the anger boiling inside of me. "I'm not here to talk about my partner, I'm here to make you an offer."

Angela looks taken aback, but she quickly regains her composure and takes a seat across from me. "My lawyer said not to make deals with cops. Guard!" She yells.

"Wait," I say. "Do you want to see your son?"

These words hit a chord with her. She leans closer towards the table looking at me, intrigued.

"I'm here to offer you an out. No prison time. You walk out of here and you get to see your son grow up.

"What's the catch?"

"No catch. You just have to forget everything Jay told you about Marcus."

She chuckles bitterly and sits back. She looks straight at me, considering what to say next. "Someone has to pay for what happened to Marcus," she scowls.

"Agreed. But that person isn't Jay." I lean in and look straight into her eyes. "Deep down you know he is a good cop. He was looking out for you and your boy."

"He did it out of guilt," she exclaims.

I think carefully before replying. "He did it because he cares. Jay didn't kill Marcus. All he is guilty of is following procedure like any other cop. But he reached out to you because he isn't like any other cop. He could've just gone about his life. But he didn't. He chose to help you." I sit back and watch her digest my words. "When you called him that night he didn't hesitate for a second to go help you. You are sitting across from me – breathing – because of him."

I see her anger fade a little, but she seems determined to hold onto it.

"Look, what happened to Marcus is a tragedy and should never have happened, but if you blame Jay for what happened, the real murderer goes free."

"I-I... I don't think…"

"Is getting revenge more important than watching your son grow up?"

"I don't know how—"

"—Say you lied. You weren't making ends meet and a big city check would solve your problems."

"I don't know if I can—"

"You can and you'll do it for your son."

"And everything will go away?"

"Yes and you get to kiss your son goodnight every night. It's a good deal." I stand up and my chair drags noisily on the linoleum floor. I lean down and whisper, "You have twelve hours to make your decision. Rot in prison or live a happy life. Your call."

I walk out and the adrenaline pumping through me is making my hands shake. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. There is so much riding on this. This is the one shot we have to keep Jay out of prison.

Outside, I see Voight standing by my car. "How did it go?"

"I think she'll take it," I say, as much to convince myself as him.

"Good," he says and with one hand he squeezes my shoulder. He looks like he wants to say more, but his phone rings. "Sorry," he mutters as he slips his phone out of his pocket and glances at the screen. "It's Will."

A chill passes through me as I'm filled fear.

"Voight," he answers. I watch his face flip-flop between gloom and worry. "Okay. We'll be right there." He hangs up says, "It's Jay. We gotta go."

* * *

**Thank you for reading and for your lovely reviews! A big shoutout to _Trisha06_ for Beta-ing this! =) Part V coming soon! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Part V **

**Hailey's POV**

We rush to the hospital to find Jay battling a systemic infection. It's taking a toll on some of his internal organs. His kidneys are holding, but the doctors think they might begin to shut down if his body doesn't fight back. They are doing all they can with strong antibiotics and fever control, but this infection had a jump start on his body.

"The good thing is that we caught it early, so he has a good chance of fighting it off." Will's voice oozes with trepidation, and alarms clang in my brain. "If in the next twenty-four hours he doesn't show signs that he is getting better, We'll have put him into a medically induced coma to help him fight the infection."

"Is he awake? Can I go see him?" I ask.

"Yeah, but let's keep visitation to a minimum. We put him in isolation as a precaution. We don't want to further comprise his immune system."

"Hailey, you go ahead," Voight says. "I will let the team know."

I nod.

"Let me know if you hear anything about…" I let the sentence linger.

"Will do," Voight says and leaves.

I follow Will and dress in a yellow isolation gown, cap, mask, and gloves. We stop outside Jay's room, where two officers are still standing by, and Will pushes the door open. Jay's head turns at the sound. His face is flushed, eyes bloodshot, and a thin sheen of sweat covers his brow. I can tell a fever is burning through him, leaving him looking flushed and exhausted.

"Hey," I say approaching and his eyes meet mine. "How are you feeling?"

With his free hand, Jay reaches up and shakily pulls the oxygen mask covering his mouth down to his chin. "I've seen better days."

"Hey Jay, are you in pain? Any discomfort?" Will asks.

"Not anymore… a nurse came… and she gave me something," Jay says breathlessly, motioning towards his IV.

"Okay," Will says, checking his charts. "I will come back after my rounds to check on you." Will offers Jay an encouraging smile and gently pats his shoulder. "Hang in there."

Will leaves and it's just us.

"You have to stop giving me heart attacks," I tell him. I approach the bed and take his hand in my gloved ones. I feel the heat of his skin seeping into mine through the thick layer of latex covering my hand. "I don't know if my heart can take it anymore."

A lazy smile spreads across his face and his eyes soften. "I'm sorry…Maybe I just wanted some alone time with you."

I'm glad his sense of humor is still intact. "There are better ways to go about that," I say and I can tell from the warmth in my face that my cheeks are flushing red behind this face mask.

He chuckles and a coughing fit racks his shivering body. "I'm not… at my thinking best," he mutters.

I can tell he is having trouble breathing. "How about we put the mask back on," I suggest and slowly drag it up and over his mouth.

"The silver lining here…is that they won't be transferring me…to Statesville anytime soon," he says, his voice muffled by the mask.

His attempt at a joke falls flat here. Though he smiles, I can see the defeated look about him: eyes downcast, shoulders slumped, everything limp and ready to give in.

"We are not letting that happen," I say—firmly, but I don't think he believes me.

"My FOP lawyer…came by…" he states. "He said COPA…took the case from IRT. This can only mean… they are bringing in murder charges." He pauses to take a few breaths. "That's 20 to life, Hailey."

"They are reaching. The state's department will never go for that," I say and he sees right through my lie; I can tell with the hint of a tilt of his head.

He pulls his oxygen mask down. "Hailey—"

"No…" It pains me to hear the defeat in his voice. I break gaze with him and begin pacing the room. "You can't think like that. Jay, you are innocent."

I can feel his eyes him following me. "Hailey, Hailey… stop…" His voice is so soft. He sits up and reaches for my arm. "Stop."

I pause. His hand feels warm as his fingers wrap around my left bicep, slightly above my elbow. My eyes fill with unshed tears. I can't be sure who is trembling more, but I think it is me.

With a weary sigh, he runs his free hand down his face. "I'm far from… being innocent." He loosens his grip on my arm and his hands slides down until our fingers intertwine. He then pulls the glove from my hand and before I can object his warm fingers are interlacing with mine. "I have to be realistic. I can't expect to just walk out of this room… with my badge. I have to think about…" With his free hand he places the oxygen mask against his mouth—and breathes. After taking a few deep breaths, he continues, "I have to think about my life _after_. It's naïve not to."

I shake my head. "Look, I talked to Angela today." I say with a sigh, and sit down at the edge of his bed. "I'm actually wearing a pants suit underneath all this." I chuckle sadly and he does too. "I asked for her silence in exchange for her freedom."

His eyes widen. For a moment, he looks a bit stunned to speak.

"I think she'll take it," I say with as much conviction as I can muster. "When she does we will just re-work what happened at the warehouse." I squeeze his hand. "That's why you can't give up. You stick to the script. No pleas."

Jay nods. "And Angela will walk on…all charges?"

"Yes. We are dropping everything," I reply, and then I bite my lip before my eyes drift down to our joined hands. I can't hide the disapproval in my voice as I continue, "She's got a real chance to get her life back together."

A light comes on inside of him and a small broken smile curves his lips. "Crawford?"

"If he wants to keep his job, he'll sign off on it."

"What about COPA and IRT…the state's department?"

"Without Angela's testimony, they will have nothing on you."

Jay looks at me for the first time since we started this conversation. He presses his lips together, his eyes softening, like he's slowly coming back to himself.

"It will all be over soon," I assure him. "You just focus on getting better." I pause a beat, and then say, "I miss my partner."

Jay gives our joined hands a little tug before raising them to his lips. Holding my gaze, he presses a soft kiss to my hand. He is having a hard time breathing, but has enough air to say, "Maybe we can…figure out what this is." He motions between us.

I take ours joined hands and press them to my heart. "Yeah. We can figure everything out later."

He gives me an easy smile and places the oxygen mask over his lips. I smiled back and then his eyes close. He instantly falls asleep, his breathing deep and heavy. I take a deep breath myself and sit on a chair by his bed. After a moment of total silence, I lean my head against his bed and my eyes overflow with tears, and I'm overtaken by my emotions completely. I cry – one of those cries where you let every bit of your tears wash all the bad emotions out of you, so that your mind and your heart are clean and clear mentally, so as to move on.

x

The following day we receive word that Angela is retracting her statement. Joy and gratitude overwhelm me. I feel so light that I could float away. I hot foot to the hospital – Jay needs to hear this, he needs to know there's a light at the end of this dark tunnel. But when I get there, I see Will outside of Jay's room. He is pacing, a look of blank devastation on his face. Every muscle in my body goes rigid.

"Hey Will, what's going on? Is everything okay with Jay?" I ask.

He sighs and runs his hands through his red hair in frustration. "The infection spread to his lungs. We had to put him under and intubate him."

This time the hit-by-an-eighteen-wheeler feeling isn't a surprise, and neither are the tears stinging my eyes. We are back to square one. The familiar pain clamps around my chest and throat.

"What happed?" I manage to choke out.

Will lifts a hand and kneads the muscles at the back of his neck. "He was having a hard time breathing...oxygen levels were dropping and a chest x-ray showed lot of fluid in his lungs."

We stare at each other for a moment and then I break the silence, "What now?"

"We wait," he says. "And hope the antibiotics start working soon."

"If they don't?" I ask carefully.

"I don't know," he says it so curtly that I can tell the answer to my question is one he doesn't want to entertain. He clears his throat and adds, "They won't allow you inside today. His room is off limits."

I nod. "Of course, it's, uh, probably a good idea."

Will sees the grief in my eyes and puts a comforting hand on my shoulder. "I'm really glad Jay has you. He cares about you very much."

Will is just trying to cheer me up or maybe comfort me. I don't think he is trying to break my heart. Even though he manages to do exactly that. I approach the door to Jay's room and look through the glass slit. Jay looks so weak and vulnerable lying in bed, hooked up to all those machines again. The memory of his lips flood my brain and toys with my resolve. I can feel it crumbling. Tears are bubbling up; my emotions are rubbed raw.

"We are monitoring him closely," Will says, snapping me out of my thoughts. "This is just a small bump in the road."

I take in a long, shaky breath. "Things gets worse before they get better, right?" I say, parroting him.

"Yeah," he says, but he sounds like he is trying to convince himself, too. "He'll get better."

We part ways and I retreat to the cafeteria. I sit down and bury her face in my hands, feeling completely at a loss. This is like a bad dream. I keep hoping I will wake up and everything will be back to normal. But it isn't a dream. It is all too real.

_Stay with me, Jay. _

x

The next day, I'm called to the ivory tower to clarify the events that happened at the warehouse. Angela's retraction probably climbed up the ladder and the case against Jay is surely collapsing. I was expecting the call, but I wasn't expecting it this soon. When I walk in, I catch my reflection in the glass that lines the room and note with detached satisfaction that my face appears calm and gives no indication of the turmoil I'm masking beneath it all.

My shoulders droop a little and I mumble to myself under my breath, "Get a grip." I take a seat and spot Crawford sitting among other white shirt officers. I almost want him to even slightly oppose anything I say.

"Detective Upton," says one of the white shirts. His nonchalant tone annoys me, but I brush it aside. "You were the first responding officer on scene."

"I was inside the warehouse," I correct him. I wipe my palms across my pants and shift in my seat—trying to get comfortable. "Detective Halstead had immobilized one of the offenders and was going back down a set of stairs where the kidnappers had kept him to tend to Angela."

"What happened after?"

"I heard a gunshot…" If I close my eyes, the sound still haunts me. "…and I immediately ran down the stairs. I surveyed the scene and I saw Jay on the ground bleeding."

"Did you see Angela?"

"Yes. She was badly hurt," I add.

"Did you see a third person there?"

"There was another offender, but my attention was on helping my partner."

"So, you did not you see who shot detective Halstead?"

"No, I did not."

"Did you see the gun?"

"I know a gun was recovered at the scene," I say carefully. "And the ballistics matched the gun that shot detective Halstead. It also came back hot for two robbery homicides."

The white shirt sits back and takes a deep breath looking at the other officers in the room before returning his attention to me. "On your original statement, you said Angela shot detective Halstead."

"Yes," I answer curtly.

"Why did you say that?"

"Because she copped to it," I shrug.

"Did she tell you why?"

I take a deep breath, forcing a note of calm into my voice. "She said detective Halstead was responsible for her husband's death."

The white shirt massages his temples, rubbing his eyes toward the bridge of his nose. "Tell me about her husband, Marcus West?"

I clear my throat and sit straight in my chair. "He was the offender who shot those two tender age boys. He was killed in lockup. I guess she blames the CPD for his death."

"Marcus was an alleged offender," he corrects me.

I look at Crawford and say, "All evidence pointed to him. No juror would contest it. He was good for the murder of those two boys."

"But he never confessed."

I pause and look directly at him. "Tends to happen when repeat offenders are looking at life," I say for their benefit.

The room falls silent and I lean back on my chair. I look at each of their faces and they appear calm despite the fact that their eyebrows are raised. Hopefully they are re-thinking the charges brought against my partner.

"Thank you, detective Upon," Crawford breaks his silence. "We will contact you if we have any more questions."

I nod and leave.

Although my heart is hurting right now, hope fills my chest.

* * *

**Thank you for reading and for your lovely reviews. A big thank you to _T_**_**risha06 **_**for helping me Beta this! Cheers! **


	6. Chapter 6

**Part VI**

**Hailey's POV**

I shift in bed, turning on my side to face the window. The sun is rising and shining through the heavily frosted glass. The early morning chill raises the fine hairs on my forearms, making me burrow a little deeper into the blankets. I just want to delay getting up, I want pretend for a moment that everything is fine and that I'm not in an emotional vortex – one of which I can't seem to get out of.

Right now, seemingly, everything is in the mode of "unsure." Everything is hanging in a balance, every moment is in question. I'm gutted, like someone has been using me as a floor rag. I feel like I'm stuck in a _Groundhog Day _kind of existence, repeating the same evets in a loop day after day – feeling my heart break again and again.

As it turns out, Angela's retraction didn't seem to have the impact we hoped and the charges against Jay haven't been dropped. In fact, the State's Department is still pursuing the case and doesn't look like they intend to stop.

On the bright side, Jay is doing better. After a couple of days in complete isolation, he turned a corner. Today will be the first time I'll able to see him since they put him under. I'm excited, but anxious. I have no good news to tell him, and I already decided if he asks I will not lie to him. Even in his debilitated state, Jay can see right through me.

I get up and shower. I make a quick cup of coffee and head to the hospital.

**Jay's POV**

When my eyes open, my first though is that I'm underwater. Everything is bright and out of focus. My instincts tell me I need to breathe, but I'm afraid that if I try to inhale the water will rush into my throat and I'll drown. But I push to the surface, and I exhale a tiny breath of air. I blink, but the world is still blurry.

"Hey…"

I hear a soft voice say and its unmistakable warm tone gives away its owner. Man, it is good to hear Hailey's voice.

I open my eyes and her face comes into view. I feel a smile break over my face at the sight of her. "Hey," she repeats and shoots me a smile. There are dark circles under her eyes. She looks tired – her pale skin lacking its normal glow. I think about asking her if she's okay.

"I feel like we've been doing this a lot lately," I tell her. My voice coming out rough.

She nods, holding her smile. "Yeah, how about we make this the last time you relapse? I think you're just doing for the attention now," she says with a half-smile, trying to make light of the situation, but all the while, I can hear the pain in her voice. "You feeling okay? I can buzz for a nurse."

"No need. I'm okay," I tell her and it's the truth. Whatever drug they are pumping though my IV is working. They do make things fuzzy around the edges, but the fuzziness is a good thing. It helps numb the guilt.

I watch Hailey for a minute and she's very quiet, looking towards the beeping machines every couple of seconds, but not saying anything. She's too far away from me. Deciding to hell with it, I reach for the hem of her shirt and take her hand in mine. The warmth of her fingers seep into mine, kind of soft and electric at the same time, and the sensation it's like a healing balm to my heart.

Hailey blinks at me, then smiles—a small, tight smile, but it is a smile. "I'm glad you're back," she says.

"I'm not going anywhere." I say nothing else, just let the words hang in the air. At this very moment, I feel calm and at peace. Nothing is nagging at me, reminding me of the terrible things I've done. For some reason, Hailey has the power to do that whenever she is around.

"Me too," she replies, running her thumbs over my knuckles. I notice her fingers clinging a little more tightly to mine than usual.

Silence falls between us. I can tell Hailey is worried, sad even. Something is on her mind. I catch her starting to say something, but then she changes her mind and tightens her lips. I can feel her nervous tension in the air, it is tangible.

I tug her hand. "Hey…"

Her lips part; a wariness flicker in her eyes. "Yeah?"

"You doing okay?"

"Yeah," she shrugs, which is what she does when she is feeling more than she is saying.

"You want to tell me what's going on?"

She looks up at me and there is a deep furrow between her eyes. I'm fully aware that she is still determined to tread lightly around me.

"It's just…" She lets her unfinished sentence hang in midair.

Gazing into blue eyes clouded by all sorts of emotion, I wonder if I can do anything to ease her mind. I then trace her cheek gently and push a curl behind her ear. Despite feeling a prickly pain burning deep down in my chest, I extend my arm and cup the back of her neck. Her skin is warm against my fingertips.

"I'm going to kiss you if that's okay?"

She nods.

I slowly lean in and softly, I kiss her lips. Our kiss is different this time. Rather than being tentative and cautious, it's more deliberate, packed with familiarity and precision. Deepening the kiss, I run my tongue against hers, giving her long, drugging kisses that I hope offers her some relief as much as it gives me. I linger on her lips, taking in each nuance, further memorizing her taste. It is a long, deep kiss that silently expresses how much I cherish her. I know I've already taken so much from her that I can't return. The only thing I have to offer right now is this.

We finally part and I reach for her hand, plant a kiss into her palm, and settle it over my aching chest. A pretty blush spreads over her cheeks and the lines on her forehead smooth out.

"So…," I clear my throat. "You want to tell me what's going on?" I ask.

She takes a deep breath in, lets it out, placing her hand on top of mine. I notice the confliction in her eyes. "It's about the case. I had hoped to have some good news, but—"

"—Let me guess," I interrupt her. "The state's department doesn't care that Angela retracted her statement."

She looks at me with wide eyes. "H-How did you know?"

"I met with my FOP lawyer. He updated me on the case."

"Oh," she says, then shakes her head dismissively. "But don't worry, Voight thinks they are grasping at straws. He says it will all blow over."

It irks me a bit that her optimism is based on hope rather than reality. "Do you really believe that?" I ask.

"Yes." She tilts her head to the side, and I have the distinct impression she is trying to figure me out, maybe see into my head. She studies my face for what feels like forever before she asks slowly, "Do you believe it?"

"No," I say bluntly.

Hailey looks startled, and she stiffens against me. But only for a moment. Then her eyes flash in outrage as they simultaneously water up. "I can't keep having this same conversation with you. I don't understand why you can't just—"

"—Hailey, I've made peace with it," I tell her. She looks away and shakes her head. I gently grip her chin and pull her face until her eyes are trained on me again. "You should too."

"I can't!" She snaps. Her eyes water up like she might cry, but not a tear spills over. "So that's it, huh?" You're just going accept whatever happens to you as what? Karma?"

I drop my hold on her face and grab both her hands in my own. "What do you want me to do? The cards are stacked against me. Don't you see that? I can't sit here and expect that everything will be fine."

"Maybe it will." Her voice drops to a near whisper.

Tears escape her eyes and I imagine hope and resignation are fighting for position in her head as it did in mine. Maybe she is letting everything sink in this time. I don't know how to get through her head that I can't live an illusion. I've had enough time to think about the possible outcomes while in this bed, and I will face whatever it is. If it's time for my reckoning, I will be ready, and she needs to be too.

"Hailey…"

She looks me in the eyes again. I can see her resolve crumbling. There's such deep sadness and fear in her face. It breaks my heart.

"Hailey… Hey…" I squeeze her hand, bringing it up to my lips to press a small kiss on her knuckles. "This is not me giving up...This is me mentally preparing—"

"Jay—"

My gut clenches at the way her tone goes soft when she says my name.

Hailey doesn't have a chance to finish because the team interrupts the moment. She let's go of my hand and mine immediately feels cold. I hope she can't tell how much I miss the contact. She turns away and puts a smile on her face. For the rest of the day, Hailey doesn't look directly in the eyes. She looks over my shoulder, at my chest, but she refuses to look at me. That's burns, more than the pain in my chest.

I know my future doesn't look good and whatever this is between Hailey and I might not live beyond the walls of this hospital room. But I'm not ready to let her go. Honestly, I might never be able to let her go.

I do my best to play along, cracking jokes and making conversation with the team as if I'm not internally falling apart.

x

**Hailey's POV**

Jay is right.

I just don't want to admit it.

Being a realist is the right way to go. I'm not an optimist, and I don't know why I'm pushing him to be one. Maybe it's just… I can't accept that our story ends before it even starts. I can't accept that whatever is going on between us will only exist within the walls of his hospital room. What I feel is big and real and I can't let it go. I won't let it go. Maybe what pisses me off is that he seems fine with letting _us_ go.

So I make the decision to not go visit him. I make a point to always stay late and work the cases we have on our desks. My strategy at this point is going to be to try to occupy my mind as much as possible. Maybe I also need to be a realist and get used to living and working without him. And this tactic works beautifully during the day, but at night… my mind races. It sometimes gets so bad, that I think there's no way I'll stay sane until the sun comes up. I don't know if it's the darkness or the solitude that puts me in this frame of mind, but it's rough.

When I do fall asleep, I have dreams. Vivid dreams of him holding me, kissing me, and I wake up trembling. I can almost feel his fingers trailing down my collarbone and feel my skin burn where his lips touched my skin in my dreams. It's all so vivid, and I don't know which is worse, sleeping and dreaming or not sleeping at all.

Obviously, I keep in contact with Will to make sure Jay is doing okay, and he is. He got moved out of the ICU and is down on the patient floor. He is getting better and will likely be discharged soon. His fate still hangs in a balance, but at least his prognosis is looking up.

A few days later, Voight gathers us around in the pen and says the State's Department has filed a motion to move Jay to Statesville. He would stay at the infirmary, but the paperwork for transport has been approved.

"Do they have enough to make a case?" Ruzek asks. "Last I heard they had nothing without Angela's testimony. I thought Crawford was keeping a lid on everything."

"They are not going for the murder charges, yet," Voight says. "They will book him for wrongful imprisonment and misconduct."

"We can't let them move him," I say, a geyser of outrage building inside me, just about ready to burst.

"Jay is not going anywhere," Voight states. "I'm going to have a word with Crawford." Voight turns to leave, but adds, "They are gunning for Jay to get to this unit. I want everyone on their toes. You don't talk to anyone and everything stays here."

We all nod in agreement.

Voight leaves and I go right behind him, but I head to the Chicago Med instead. I arrive and head to the patient floor, and I don't have to go looking for his room because I reckon it's the one with two cops standing guard.

I flash them my badge, and walk inside. I find Jay lying awkwardly on the bed, facing away from the door.

"Jay?" I say.

It takes him a moment, but he turns uneasily towards me and then I see the reason why: he is cuffed to the bed. My blood boils over so fast I think the top of my head's going to blow right off. I march outside and shout at the officers, "Give me the fucking key?"

They look at me confused—like they aren't sure what I'm talking about. I extend my hand, "The cuff keys, you morons."

"We were ordered to—"

"I don't care what you were told. I outrank you. Give me the damn keys."

The two rookie officers exchange looks and before they can telepathically decide on what to do, I rip the key ring from one of the officer's belt.

"Hey! You can't do that—"

"I just did," I say and return inside the room. I walk towards the bed and quickly un-cuff him. Jay massages his writ.

We look intently at each other, as a heavy silence falls over us. I struggle to calm my breathing; blood pounds through my ears. I put my hands over my mouth and chest to calm my breathing and close my eyes.

"Thank you," I hear him say after a beat.

I open my eyes to look at him. It's been a few days since I'd seen him and he looks better. I can see there are less machines and less IV poles around him.

"Yeah," I say, still a bit breathless. "T-They shouldn't have…"

After another moment of thoughtful consideration Jay says, "You alright?"

I nod. "You?"

"Good." He nods, but then I catch something that passes through his eyes. It is gone quickly, but it makes me think that his response is not entirely true. "Thank you for coming," he adds offhandedly.

I take a step closer to him. Too close. His intense stare sends chills down my spine. "I-I'm sorry I haven't been… It's just things got…busy."

"I get it. Chicago perps don't take vacation days."

I don't say anything. Instead, offer him a smile.

He hesitates for a moment before he says, "I'm so sorry for what I said the last time you were here. I was in a bad place and I shouldn't have directed my anger towards you."

We lock eyes and Jay is able to disarm me, making any sort of aggravation on my part dissipate in seconds. "I get it," I tell him. "And I'm sorry too. I guess it's easy to be optimistic when you're not the one whose future hangs in a balance."

Jay says nothing but offers me a shy smile.

"Friends?" I say, lightheartedly.

He releases an airy chuckle. "Partners," he replies.

This time it is my turn to lean in and kiss him. It takes him by surprise, but it doesn't take him long to respond, kissing me back. This is okay. It is exactly what we need. Jay moves his hands from my face until one is fisted in my hair and the other cupping my neck, his thumb sweeping over my pulse point. Deepening the kiss, stroking my tongue against his, I savor the taste and warmth of him.

Suddenly, and far too abruptly Jay pulls away from the kiss. "We shouldn't."

He says and his words cut right through me, stinging the surface of my emotions. "Jay, what are you—"

"I, uh, realized something – that I'm being selfish and I can't be, not with _you_. I want you to be happy." He takes my hand and pauses before adding, "for that to happen you need to be… not with me."

"Don't say that."

"Look, I thought about it. A lot. And it's not fair to you. I haven't been fair to you at all and I want to do right by you…." I can see his eyes watering. "I don't know what will happen to me, but I will only be able to live with myself knowing you were not collateral damage on all of this," he adds as if his tongue is pushing his words out of his mouth.

I just shake my head and tears leak from the corners of my eyes. "We are a team. We are partners," I spit out. "If you go down, I go down."

He wipes my tears away. "No." He clears his throat. "I already told Voight. This time I go alone."

Panic rises, jangling my circuits. Jay pushing me away is worse than physical pain. Desperate, I try to think of something to say, "I won't let you. I've said this before, and I mean it. I will tell them…" My words choke on a sob. "I will tell them everything. I mean it."

"—Hailey…"

"—Don't to this," I beg, shaking my head. "You don't have to do this."

He closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. "You should go," he says, the edge in his tone unmistakable.

I don't say anything. I can't. The words get stuck to the roof of my mouth as the full impact of his statement hits me. All I can do it stare, mouth hanging open, at the man who seems to wither in height with each passing second, shifting his eyes away when I try to capture them with mine. My heart is shattered into a million pieces. I'll never be the same. So I surrender to the despair and grant him his wish, and leave.

**Jay's POV. **

Letting Hailey go was not the hardest thing I had to do. No, there was something much worse –pushing her away when every fiber of my being told me she should be mine yet, can't be.

* * *

**Thank you for reading and for all your very encouraging reviews! I hope each and everyone of you have a holiday season full of surprises and cheers, simply because you all deserve the very best. But I also know holidays can be very stressful and lonely for some, and if you find yourself in this category, please feel free to reach out and we can have a chat or two =) **

**Always, a big thank you is due to _Trisha06 _her help Beta-ing this. **

**Cheers! **


	7. Chapter 7

**Hailey's POV**

"Hailey, you hear what I said?

Vanessa is talking, and I can hear her just fine, but I can't process a word she is saying. Since I returned home from the hospital my head has been in some sort of a fog. I feel like I'm trying to make sense out of nonsense, rationalize the irrational. Jay is pushing me away, but I can't let him go. I know he feels the same way I do, something we have yet to name because if we did, he wouldn't have pushed me away. At least, that is what my head keeps telling my bruised heart.

"Hailey?" Vanessa's voice brings me out of my own head. "You've been in another world lately."

I look at her kind, concerned face. "It's just…" I hesitate for a second before deciding against telling my roommate the truth. "I'm just tired. It's been a long day, that's all."

Displeased with my answer, Vanessa asks in an unsatisfied tone, "That's the story you're sticking with?"

"It's nothing. I'm fine. I just need a full night of sleep," I tell her in a voice that sounds a hell of a lot more confident than I feel.

Vanessa grabs two beers from the fridge and takes a seat next to me. "Don't go digging a hole that's deeper than you can climb out." The concern drops from her face and a look of empathy replaces it. "Did something happen at the hospital today?"

Her question is a trap. No matter how I answer, I know she will pick up on what's really bothering me.

"What's going on with you and Halstead? she asks bluntly but then quickly adds, "I'm sorry. That's none of my business. Forget I asked."

I grin at her and decide right then to let her in a little. "We got into argument because he is determined to do this alone." I pause and take a deep breath. "He is pushing everyone away."

Vanessa's eyebrows dip down to form a sympathetic look. "But more specifically, he is pushing _you_ away," she says.

"He says he doesn't want to be selfish with me. What the hell kind of reason is that?" I have no idea why I just told her this, so I take a pull from the beer bottle in front of me. It is sharp and tangy and so cold it stings my throat on the way down.

Vanessa's voice sounds full of trepidation when she says, "Maybe you should give him what he wants. Let him do this alone."

_Never_ is the first word that comes to mind. "We are a team."

Vanessa lets out a sigh. "Look, Jay is trying to protect you. I know you and he knows you too, and you'll meddle until it's both of your heads on the chopping block."

"We can't stand by and let him sacrifice everything for something we all did."

"Hailey, no one is standing by. We've been working around the clock. I haven't seen Voight leave his office in weeks. Also, I can't remember the last time I had a day off. If I had any family, they would be filing a missing person report," she says, taking a long pull from her beer for the first time. "We're trying to hook a whale here."

"I just… I don't know what to do." I tell her and I take another long, slow sip from my bottle. I feel the tears start to come. "Jay will be transferred to Statesville in a couple of days and—" My voice catches in my throat. "I'm scared what will happen to him."

There's a beat of silence before she says, "Are you saying this because of what happened with detective Olinsky?" I frown and she explains, "Atwater filled me in."

I nod and press my palm against my eyes.

The room falls silent. Even Vanessa can't discard the possibility of it happening again, especially since Jay, a white cop, is being blamed for the wrongful imprisonment and death of an innocent black man. We both know the odds are stacked against him. I know the unit is stuck against a wall, and no matter how hard we try, there seems to be no visible solution where we all get out unscathed. The only way to avoid this scenario seems to be illegitimate, and I'm sure Voight is actively exploring those channels too.

After a few minutes, Vanessa walks over to the liquor cabinet and takes two glasses and a bottle of scotch, filling them both to the top. She hands me one and keeps the other. I look at her skeptically.

"I need something stronger," she reasons.

We clink glasses, a little too hard, and I take a too-big sip. The scotch burns its way down my throat and softens the edges. After a few sips the ache subsides.

"So, you and Halstead, huh?" she asks.

"It was over before it even began," I tell her woefully. "I shouldn't have let anything happen in the first place."

Vanessa looks down at her drink, eyebrows raised. "What did exactly happen?"

"Nothing!" I laugh sadly. "We kissed a couple of times and nothing more."

A look of disbelief fills her face. "Wait, so you're telling me you're bent out of shape over a guy you only kissed? _Nothing _more?"

I take a sip from my drink and nod, knowing how foolish it sounds. "Nothing more."

Vanessa throws her head back and laughs. "Girl, here I was thinking you had a piece of that good-looking pie."

I chuckle. This is the one thing I love about Vanessa, when things are bad, when the chips are down, she always has a way of easing the tension. I search my alcohol-numbed brain for the words that could follow her response, but I come up empty. Her laughter eventually subsides.

She straightens and exhales. "You got it bad for Halstead," she says. "You got it _real _bad. Like, follow him to the ends of the earth, bad."

Her words sink in and make contact with the small part of my brain that isn't inebriated. I take another sip of liquid courage before confessing, "I think I'm in love with him."

I can see by the way Vanessa nods that a part of her knew all along. She refills our cups. "At least you know it's not one-sided, right? Anyone can see that he has heart eyes for you too. He's probably worse off than you right now."

"Why is that?" I ask.

"He can't drink to forget," she says and sips from her glass.

I drain mine, knowing I will regret it tomorrow. I think momentarily about Jay sitting alone in his stupid hospital bed abiding by his stupid moral code. I know drowning my sorrow in alcohol is not a good idea, but at this moment the pain is bearable. The alcohol is making sure of that, and I need some short-term memory loss that will keep me from thinking about Jay all night long.

**Jay's POV **

I need a drink.

Maybe five.

They are transferring me out of med today and booking me at Statesville. Will tried everything within his power to keep me here, but this is bigger than him - it's bigger than all of us. I'd be lying if I said I'm not nervous, I am. At least my hearing is in a couple of days and my FOP lawyer is certain they will let me out on bail.

The unit is here to see me out, except for one key member.

"Where's Hailey?" Ruzek asks.

"She, um, had to meet with a CI," Vanessa answers quickly and then turns to me. "She's really sorry. She wanted to be here."

I nod. I didn't expect her to come, but deep down I hoped she would. I did what had to be done and the fact that everyone is safe is all the consolation I need. She once said I'd forget her just fine, and maybe the same can be said about her. Maybe it's better she's not here. I know what awaits me, and my resolve will crumble if I see her.

"Stay strong," Kevin says, bringing me back to reality. "They got nothing on you."

"Keep your head down. Trust no one," Ruzek adds.

"It will be fine. It's just for a couple of days and then I'll be out on bail," I assure them and myself.

Everyone nods. They seem to be in good spirits, which is comforting.

They can't cuff me; my left arm is in a sling so that I don't pull the incision on my chest. Also, Will thought it would make me look worse off than I was. The officers push me out on a wheel chair and into an unmarked van that is waiting for me outside. This is sort of surreal. Maybe Hailey's optimism rubbed off on me and in the back of my mind I hoped it wouldn't get this far.

The team bids their farewell with positive words and optimistic outlooks. I can see their sympathetic but concerned faces staring back at me. I know they are putting on a brave face because the scar Alvin left is still fresh. But this unit is my family and if I have to fall on my sword to protect them, so be it.

The next couple of days are rough, lonely, but I manage to pull it together and make it to my court hearing. Bail is set and in two hours I find myself in Will's car on my way to my apartment for the first time in over a month. I stare out the window, my head is spinning, partly from trying to process everything that is happening, partly from missing Hailey. She wasn't at the hearing and I understand why, but this doesn't make me feel better, or care any less for her. I guess I just need to sleep the day away and wake up to a different reality where my life isn't falling apart.

"I didn't see Hailey at your hearing today," Will mentions in an offhanded way that is afforded only to prying older brothers. "I also didn't see her at the hospital when you were transferred."

"She is probably busy," I reply nonchalantly.

"Busy? I watched her spend day and night in your hospital room for weeks. I don't think she suddenly found herself too busy," Will reasons.

"I don't know what to tell you," I shrug, before turning to look out the window to end this conversation.

Will glances at me so that I can see his belief, then back on the road. "What happened between you two?"

I rub my hand over my face and groan. "Nothing."

Will scoffs. "C'mon, Jay. There's no way Hailey would jump ship after everything."

"Maybe she doesn't want to deal with everything anymore," I say hopefully ending this conversation once and for all.

"You know, I have a theory," he says.

I inhale and try not to lose my temper. "What's your theory?"

"You pushed her away the minute things got rough for you." He sighs and glances my way. "Exactly what you did with Lindsay. And what happened then? She left and it broke you."

I'm stunned into silence with his statement. I know I messed up with Lindsay and I paid the price. But this is different. Dragging Hailey into this mess will only cause her pain. She can't help me. No one can. It is my responsibility to do what I have to do in order to keep everyone I care for safe. The very core of who I am comes down to the ideals of loyalty and responsibility I carry with me.

"Look, you finally opened your heart again…" Will begins, his voice measured and cautious, "You need to let Hailey in. Don't shut her out. Don't try to face this alone when there's someone willing to help you through it."

"I-I can't do this to her... It's selfish," I explain.

"Jay, Hailey is big enough to make her own decisions. Let her." After a beat he adds, "She loves you. That I know. I saw it in her eyes the day they brought you in, and every day after that when she sat by your bed waiting for you to wake up."

I know Will means well, or at least I hope he does, but his words cut deep. After a moment he says quietly. "Don't push her away."

We drive the rest of the way in silence. I can't pinpoint how I'm feeling right now. All the evidence of who I was when Lindsay left, is taking a front seat. Am I letting history repeat itself here? Logic is telling me to let Hailey go, but my heart and now Will is telling me to let her in. These thoughts are chasing each other in my head like an episode of Tom and Jerry.

Will stops the car in front of my apartment building and says, "Do you need help going up?"

"No, I'm good. I'm just going to crash."

"Okay," he nods. "Think about what I told you, and I will come check on you later tonight after my shift. Also, don't forget to change that dressing."

"Will do." I wave goodbye as he pulls into the street and drives away.

I go to bed, not interested in being awake a minute longer. I don't want to think about any of this. I just want to go to sleep and forget everything.

**Hailey's POV**

It's late. I'm standing outside of Jay's apartment building, pacing nervously while holding a brown bag with takeout. I can't decide if I should go in. He was just released today, and maybe he doesn't want company, or maybe he is asleep. I might be the last person he wants to see anyways. I just couldn't face him, couldn't look in his eyes in front of everyone and pretend everything was okay. Honestly, I don't think I can look at him without falling apart.

Twenty minutes later, I realize I'm pacing more. Finally, after someone exits his building, I muster the courage and walk up the stairs, finding myself standing outside his apartment door feeling so many emotions at once – hurt, anxiety, love. My hands are shaking. Tremors are so bad I can barely knock on the door, but somehow I manage. No answer. I knock again. I hear cursing, but it could be my imagination. I put my ear to the door and try to listen. Finally, I hear Jay saying from the other side of the door, "Hold on Will, I will be right there."

When the door opens, I let my eyes travel and everything inside me starts doing crazy things all at once. He is standing in front of me, chest bare, wearing a pair of sweatpants that is hanging low on his hips. The incision on his chest is exposed and it looks red and angry.

"Oh hey," he says obviously surprised. We stare at each other for a moment before he says, "Want to come in?"

I nod and he waves me in, closing the door behind us.

"I brought dinner," I say holding up the brown bag. My stomach is starting to turn and my nerves are starting to get the best of me. "Figured you probably hadn't gone grocery shopping yet."

"T-Thank you," he says, still obviously trying to get his bearings.

I feel like I ambushed him. "I know I'm probably the last person you want to see, but I just wanted to make sure you're doing okay," I say stupidly through the huge lump in my throat.

After what feels like a long while, he says, "Hailey," and the way he says my name – like he's apologizing for something – makes the lump in my throat grow worse. "It's good to see you."

I blink a few times. Trying to dismiss the way he is making me feel I take the coward's way out and change the subject. "Hey, um, what happened there?" I motion to his kitchen table. It looks like the medicine cabinet exploded on top of it – gauze pads, alcohol wipes, scissors, bandages, and tape are all strewn everywhere.

He follows my gaze almost embarrassed. "I'm trying to change the dressing," he motions to the incision on his chest. "My left arm still feels a bit stiff."

"Need help?" I offer, putting down the brown bag on his counter.

"Sure."

He sits on a chair and just being near him again is enough to make my skin tingle. I shake off the sensation and focus on the task at hand, ignoring how my body welcomes the heat radiating from him.

I anchor the bandage over his sternum and have him hold it while I tape one side of the gauze to his ribcage. He tries not to grimace, but I can tell he is in pain. I rip another piece of tape and carefully secure the other end of the bandage. He then tells me to roll an Ace bandage around it for extra protection and I do it. I unwound the bandage around his ribcage and bring it across his chest. I pull it snugly across his back and I can't help but bask in the familiar scent of his soap.

When he gasps suddenly, I stop. "Sorry did I hurt you?"

"No. It's not really as bad as it looks."

I finish securing the bandage and promptly step away, giving myself a moment to pull myself together. My heart is racing and my body is all flushed.

"Thank you," he says and offers me a smile that can melts the icecaps.

We stand there awkwardly for a moment. "Do you want something to drink? I think I have a couple of sodas in the fridge."

"No, I'm good," I say, my voice wavering, and a few tears jump ship in hot, wet betrail. Suddenly, I begin feeling like I shouldn't have come. This was a mistake. I can't be his _friend_. "I-I should go actually. I'm sure you want to rest and stuff…."

His face falls slightly, but I ignore it. "You don't have to go."

"You need your rest," I insist. "Maybe another day," I add stupidly.

We embrace and there's a moment of awkwardness when we let go of each other and we stand close. My heart is thundering away so hard in my chest it actually hurts. Then slowly he reaches out and gently takes my hand. I feel his thumb caress the back of my knuckles. There are emotions working behind his eyes, but I don't dare to name them.

"Thank you for stopping by," he says after a beat. For the time being, and for reasons I can't explain, I allow him to continue holding my hand. He leans very close and for a nanosecond I think he is going to kiss me, but he leans back and adds, "And for dinner."

I clear my throat with a little cough and pull my hand away. "No problem. You have a good night, Jay."

"Good night, Hailey." He gives me one last searching look and says, "Another day?"

_Another day, _I repeat in my head, but don't say anything.

* * *

**Happy new year! Thank you for reading and reviewing. Let the countdown to Wednesday begin! Cheers! **


	8. Chapter 8

**Hailey's POV **

I'm caught in the twilight that stretches between sleeping and waking. I toss and turn to try and get back to sleep, but I can't; my head is too wired up. I feel outside of myself, vulnerable, and out of sorts. Giving up, I drag myself out of bed and put on a pot of water for a cup of tea. I'm trying not to think about the way I left Jay standing, shirtless, in his kitchen, or that I can still smell his soap on my hands. He is a drug my brain is addicted to and I can't seem to fight the urge of him. What is it about him that feeds into me?

The teapot comes to a boil, and when the kettle starts to whistle I hear someone at my door. At first I think I'm hearing things, but the knocking is persistent and urgent, as if something is amiss. I look through the peep hole and see Jay standing there. I feel a burst of adrenaline overwhelm me. I pull the door open, not believing he is standing outside my apartment.

"Jay?"

"Hey," he says a little out of breath.

"What are you doing here?" I look outside and see that there's no one there. "How did you even get here?"

"Will dropped me off," he says and his mouth curls with an uneasy smile. "I, um—need to talk to you."

"Come in," I say and wave him inside.

Time slows to a crawl and I can feel the tension pulsing around us. I watch him as he walks ahead on me, taking hesitant steps inside. He looks nervous – maybe even a little bit alarmed. I follow a few feet behind pretending his presence isn't shifting my point of balance.

"I, um—well, I don't know quite how to start."

"Look, you don't have to explain yourself," I say with unintended frustration lacing my words. "I get it, okay. You want space. I'll give you space."

"That's not why I came here. I came here because..." He makes a point of looking me in the eye before continuing. "I haven't been fair to you, and I shouldn't have pushed you away like that." He takes a step towards me, his hands hanging at his side. "I don't know what this is," he motions between us. "But I want to find out."

His words take me so completely by surprise that I cannot find either breath or speech for a moment. I'm dumbstruck, numb. I blink a couple of times, trying to digest the words, allowing them to penetrate the recesses of my mind.

After a silent moment he says, "Hailey?"

The sound of him saying my name brings me back. "W-What are you saying?"

He looks at me earnestly and whispers, "I want to gives us a try."

"You want to give us a try?" I repeat. There's an unexpected bite in my tone. "I was at your apartment a few hours ago. Why didn't you say anything then?"

"You didn't let me," he says and runs his hand across his face. "I wanted to tell you, but you shut down and bailed. Look, I'm not good at this. I don't know what will happen tomorrow. But I realized that I should put everything out in the open and let _you_ make the decision."

Again, I'm stunned with silence. A part of me can't believe those words are coming out of his mouth.

"I'm sorry that it took me this long to realize this. I was just afraid." There's vulnerability in his voice and it tears at my heart. I've never seen this side of him before.

"Afraid of what?" I ask, my voice stripped of its edge. "Jay you don't need—"

"—Afraid of complicating your life. I never want to do that. You deserve everything good, Hailey." He pauses, searching for the right words. "But thinking about you is all I've done in the past months. Thinking. Dreaming. Wanting. Hoping. And it hasn't changed all that much, even though I've tried my best to get you out of my mind."

He takes a step forward. I can already feel the difference in the space between us, my body responding with heat and goosebumps.

"I've been running away from things most of my life. When things get tough or too hot to handle, I shut down and leave. It's just…. It's the only way I know how to deal." He closes his eyes for a second. I can see that he is worried that his admission might drive me away. "I'm not proud of it, but want to change. I'm done doing that. I'm done trying to push you away."

Jay takes another step forwards and we're face to face. He reaches down and touches my cheek with his fingers, slowly trailing them down to the side of my neck. I feel something tighten in my chest. An ocean of tears swells in my eyes and roll down my face. He traces my cheek, then blots the tears that spilled from my eyes with his thumb.

"I'm sorry for everything," he says. Then his mouth is at my forehead, his lips brushing in a tentative kiss. "So sorry." Another kiss at my temple. "I want you to think about it. You know what I'm up against, but if you still want to give us a go, I'm here."

"I don't have to think about," I tell him with a teary smile.

I see something dart in his eyes, a quick jerk as though he had heard something unexpected in my reply. "This is…." He says softly, keenly fearful of being forward. "This is the part where we kiss, right?"

"You never have to ask."

He leans his face closer to me, and I can smell that intoxicating mixture of his soap and aftershave. My breath catches as he continues to move closer…closer…closer and then his lips touch mine. He presses against my mouth so gently that it almost tickles. But it's like getting tickled by five thousand volts of electricity. My whole body tingles, and I think this is what it must feel to be high.

Jay is my drug.

I instinctively move towards him to kiss him harder, but he moves back slightly, letting the soft touch of our lips continue to be gentle. I lift my arms and wrap around his shoulders. Something bubbles through me and I think it might be happiness. Or recklessness. But then his lips become persistent and I open for him easily, our tongues sliding against each other, fueling me on. Fueling us both on. I become aware of every inch of my skin, aware of every nerve ending.

And just like that, I'm lost.

**Jay's POV**

_Finally._ I'm kissing her again, tasting her, holding her in my arms. It feels so good, so right, having Hailey with me. I don't know what I did to deserve this, but I refuse to screw it up again. I'm not letting her go. Ever. I need her too much.

I think I'm in love with her.

I wanted to tell her that, too. But I didn't want to guilt-trip her to do anything. I'm still scared she might come to her senses and decide this is too much for her and wants to bail. But for now I will kiss her and show her how I feel rather than tell her.

We break for air and I whisper against her lips, "I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too." Her voice is low, her body soft under my fingertips.

"I want you to know that I'm all in," I say, pressing my forehead to hers. "We don't have to give this a name or overanalyze it. We can just enjoy it –whatever it is, for however long we have."

A soft smile pulls at her kiss-swollen lips. "I will be here for as long as you'll have me," she replies.

I place a soft kiss against her lips and smile, excitement raging inside of me. I watch her and see that she is much too tired. Her eyelids are closing; she yawns and stifles it halfway. How long has it been since she's had a full night of sleep? I feel a sudden burst of tiredness too, as if all energy left my body, much like air being released from a balloon.

"Hey, I know we should probably talk, but maybe it can wait until tomorrow." I keep my arm around her and press a kiss to her forehead, breathing her in one more time. "You go to bed and I will call myself an Uber home."

"No, just…" She lets the sentence go unfinished. She pulls me to her bedroom, a room I've never been in her apartment before, and watch her pull the covers from her bed.

"Hailey…" I say cautiously.

"We're just going to sleep, okay? It's late and I will feel better if you just stay." Hailey looks at me, her eyes pleading. "C'mon, get in."

I kick my shoes and climb in and she does too, pulling the bedsheets over us. She cuddles on my right side and the top of her head first perfectly under my chin. I breathe in the scent of her hair and skin and her. Her legs wrap around mine, and I take solace in her warmth and closeness. We fall asleep, wrapped close together all night, and I stay deep asleep until the next morning.

When I wake up, it takes me a minute to remember where I'm. I haven't slept this well in a long time. The pain in my chest is pulsating, but it doesn't spoil the wonderful way I feel. Slowly my thoughts gather, and I feel Hailey next to me and I'm tempted to drift back to sleep.

Then her cell phone on the bedside table rings, and it shuts down all my brain-bruised reverie.

I watch her reach groggily for her phone. She looks at it and groans.

"Morning," I say.

She turns to me, face crumpled with sleep, and says with a lazy smile, "Morning."

There's a brief pause. I won't say it is awkward—I've never felt awkward with Hailey—but I break the mood by asking: "Caught a case?"

She nods. "Voight wants us at a scene in Bucktown."

I reach for her, pulling her to me. She is warm and soft, and as her body molds into mine, I bury my face in her hair. "I want to stay here," I confess.

"Me too," she says, then her eyes widen and sparkle. "Let's meet for lunch? Actually, come by the district. Everyone will be happy to see you."

"I don't know."

"C'mon, it will be good," she pleads.

"I will think about it." I push on my elbows to sit and the slight movement sends sharp shooting pains down the front of my chest. Hailey immediately sees the discomfort ripple across my face.

"You okay?"

"Fine. Just a little pain. I need to take my meds, that's all." She nods, face still pinched with worry. "Hey," I reach for her hand. "I'm good. Promise."

Her face softens a little and I can't help but capture her chin between my fingers and place a quick peck on her lips just because I can. "You're going to be late," I tell her.

"Right." A shy smile breaks across her face, making her cheeks turn pink.

She gets up and beelines for the bathroom. When I hear the shower running, I let myself bask in this feeling for a few moments and keep it as my company. I haven't felt this happy and content in longer than I can remember. It feels selfish, but I try not to think about it too much. I decide to get up to make us coffee, but to my surprise, when I get to the kitchen I find Rojas sitting on a stool on the kitchen island. The strong aroma of fresh but strong coffee is already filtering through the air.

"Morning, Halstead," she says nonchalantly, and then asks with a cunning smile, "Sleep okay?"

"Morning. And yes," I answer.

"I bet," she says with a sly smile. I feel my face turn red, and when she looks at me over the rim of her mug I feel it turn five shades darker. "I made coffee."

"Thanks."

I pour myself a cup and take a seat across from her. To say the mood is awkward is an understatement. I know what she's thinking. Had she been here all along?

"So," Rojas looks up from her coffee. "How's everything?"

I nod. "Good. You?"

"Yeah, all good here."

Hailey walks in fully dressed and thank god because I don't know if I would've been able to make small talk with Rojas for a minute longer.

"Morning, Vanessa. What time did you get in last night?" Hailey asks nonchalantly, grabbing a cup and filling with coffee.

Okay, so she wasn't here last night.

"Couldn't tell you," she responds, sipping her coffee. "C'mon, we have to go."

"I'm ready," Hailey nods and looks to me.

"Don't worry, I will see myself out. You go." I nod to reassure her.

"Okay," she gives me a tight lip smile. "See you later?" she asks in a low voice.

I nod. "Yeah."

They leave and I feel a kind of gut-wrenching sadness – that should've been me. It's very unlikely that I will get my badge back. It is also very unlikely that I will be spending my nights here in the near future. But I've decided to live in the present. Cliché, I know. But the idea still baffles me because I've always looked ahead. Accepting my losses is hard, but I need to come to terms with my new reality and cherish what I have today. If I get to have a few weeks or a few months with Hailey, I will consider myself the lucky.

* * *

**Thank you for reading and always for the incredible support. Couldn't write this fast enough without your wonderful, kind words. Can't wait for tonight! #SaveHalstead Cheers! **


	9. Chapter 9

**Rated [M]**

**Hailey's POV **

Everything is so different but it's also all the same. It's been a couple of weeks since Jay came knocking on my door, and everything since has been great between us. But I feel like he's holding back, afraid to let go. Although he claims to be all in, I have the slightest suspicion he still hesitates for my sake – in an effort to protect me– and it's driving me crazy! This might be unintentional reflex on his part, but I just need him to surrender, for once.

Jay is over my apartment and we have the whole place to ourselves. We've eaten dinner and we are now watching TV cuddled on the sofa. My fingers are itching to touch him, my arms aching to hold him, my body quivering for him. So I decide to innocently lean over and kiss him – a gentle kiss that tells him I love him, that I trust him. Then I pull away to confirm we're on the same page and see the want in his eyes. He offers me a coy smile and I kiss him again, this time with a kiss that has a destination.

I climb on his lap, straddling him, kissing his mouth, then his chin, and both of his cheeks. For a long, agonizing moment, Jay holds himself back. But I continue to explore his lips until he relents a little and I feel his fingers digging at my waist – his touch sending an army of shivers down my spine. I press my body closer as the kiss becomes more demanding, and I close my eyes and let the feeling of him take over. I'm aware of every part of my body he's touching, but even more so of those parts he isn't.

Long delicious minutes pass, and I'm holding him as tightly as he is holding me, kissing as if our lives depended on it. I feel dizzy, breathless, feverish, but in the best way possible. This feels so right it makes my chest ache, my eyes burn. I never want this moment to end. I want to forget all our troubles and just focus on the two of us together. That is, until he pulls abruptly back and the heat between us evaporates as a candle being snuffed.

"It's getting late. I-I should go," he says.

Here we go again. "Jay…"

"I don't want Vanessa to feel uncomfortable."

"Jay…"

"You need to be up early tomorrow…."

I cup his cheeks in both of my hands, feeling the heat of his skin and the faint prickle of his stubble against my palms, and say, "Vanessa is not coming home tonight and I'm don't need to be in until 10. So, tell me what is really going on here?"

"We don't have to rush into anything," he replies.

I shake my head. Rush? I don't know how much time we have left. I want to kiss him while I can, I want to touch him while I can. I press my lips to his throat and linger, then to his jaw and lips again. The kiss makes a swift crescendo and Jay pulls back again, panting, his cheek hectically flushed.

"Hailey…".

We stare at each other for a long moment. I know I'm not imaging this. The want between us is here, like an invisible thread that draws up closer and closer together. I want to launch myself at him and never, ever let go.

"I deserve _you_," I whisper. "When will you realize that?"

When he doesn't speak, my hands reach out of their own accord, to undo the buttons on his flannel. I slide his shirt off his shoulders and down his arms, noticing the scar at the top of his chest towards his left shoulder. I kiss him there. Jay shudders, but is otherwise paralyzed, gazing intensely at me. I run my fingers down his bare torso before my mind can tell me no, and feel his stomach muscles flex, contracting under my touch. I hear him inhale sharply when I reach his pants, and his hand come up to stop mine, holding them still.

"Wait…"

"I don't want to wait," I tell him and unbutton his pants. He watches me unblinkingly. "I'm done waiting."

"Hailey…"

I look at him and silently dare him to stop me. I can feel him ready, I can see the effect my touch has on him. Why does he insist on holding back? For a moment I feel awkward, unsure. But I set my fingers on his bare chest, near his heart, over his scar, and whisper, "Let go."

His hand close over mine and he says, "You have no idea how important you are to me."

The rasp in his voice rolls over me, tightening my skin, making my breath catch. "Then what's holding you back?"

He looks down for a minute before meeting my eyes again with absolute clarity. "I feel if I let _this_ happen, I won't be able to live without it."

I take his hand and kiss it. "You won't"

He swallows hard, his throat working—and then he's kissing me, wholeheartedly, with no doubt, no hesitation, no holding back. He pushes me back on the couch gently, his lips never leaving mine. We continued kissing, deeply and passionately, occasionally letting a moan slip from our mouths. Our bodies shift closer and closer until there's no space left between us, until I feel every breath he takes, every slight shift of his lips.

I feel him fully surrender, like I'm his favorite place on earth and he wants to stay. In turn, my heart flips over in my chest, missing a beat, because that's exactly how I'm feeling. I never want this moment to end. I never want his arms to let go.

"Bedroom?" he asks. The word comes out so rough, so raw, I swear I can feel it across my skin.

"Yes." I answer.

**Jay's POV**

I lift her up and she wraps her legs around my waist, her arms around my neck; her soft, curvy body fits perfectly against mine as I carry her to the bedroom. All the while she's kissing and licking my neck leaving a trail of heat on my skin. I don't know that I'm going to stand the torture of ever not feeling her lips on me again.

_Damn it, _I want this for the rest of my life. I need time to go slow.

We fall onto the bed together and I'm careful not to rush anything. She's so perfect. Amazingly perfect. Her long, blond hair spills across the pillow, her chest rising and falling quickly. The tank top she's wearing does little to hide the satin bra she's wearing and I can see the creamy skin of her stomach.

I desperate want my lips to kiss her there.

The pajamas short she's wearing only emphasize the dip of her waist, the curve of her hips, the length of her legs. I'm kneeling above her and a smile is curving my lips. My thoughts lurch in my head as if I'm drunk. Drunk on Hailey's taste, on her scent, on the eager, breathless noises she's making. This girl can break me in one glace, one word, one touch. I don't know how I held out for so long.

I watch her slowly slide her shorts down her legs one at a time. Then I help her pull her shirt over her head, and when she pushes the straps of her bra down her arms, I unsnap the back clasp. The delicate fabric falls on the bed.

I'm blatantly checking her out now, which she notices — her expression slightly embarrassed. "What?" she asks.

"You are beautiful."

"Are you trying to embarrass me?"

"No…" I shake my head. "Just telling you the truth."

She laughs, settling her hand at the center of my chest, her fingers drifting down. Gooseflesh rises with her touch. "You're not so bad yourself."

She pulls me down and our lips connect again. I lose myself in the perfection of her mouth. Heat grows inside of me, flushing from my toes to my scalp. I move to kiss her neck, my teeth scraping her skin so I can feel her pulse against my lips. Her breathing hitches and I hear the slight whisper of my name through her breaths and it's my new favorite sound. I grasp her hips in response, letting her know I got her.

Time dissolves. I have no sense of how long I've been kissing and exploring every inch of her body. She is clutching me tightly, impatiently pressing back, rocking against me, her rhythm becoming faster and faster…. I want to be inside of her so bad, I feel like I'm going to burst.

Her eager hands then move to my pants, pulling them down enough to show the scar on my hip. "Shrapnel," I explain.

She presses her hand over the scar with a question in her eyes.

"I will tell you all about it later," I say.

My pants come fully off and she reaches for me, her fingers curling around me, guiding me towards her. I slowly sink inside of her until I'm nestled deep, and I hold myself there as steady as I can, savoring the sensation of her body accepting mine so easily. So wonderfully.

"I want you so damn much," I moan.

"Me too." Her voice is shaky, her entire body is trembling, and I slowly withdraw from her, pulling almost all the way out before I sink back inside.

This is new and exciting and we both moan at the all the sensations as I continue the torturous slow movements for long, delicious agonizing minutes. Over and over. Being with her feels amazing, like I've finally come home. Already the tingling at the base of my spine is staring. I'm going to come and it will for sure break my brain, but I need to make sure Hailey is along with me for the ride.

I reach between us and touch her, she arches beneath me like a cat and I know I hit the right spot. In seconds, she comes completely apart beneath me. Her body is racked with shudders, her head thrown back as she pulses around me. Sending me straight into my own spectacular finish that leaves me nearly blind. I collapse on top of her, my body still shaking, the aftereffects lingering as she wraps her arms around me, holding me close, running her hand up and down my back. Soothing me and arousing me all at once.

"You're crushing me," she finally says, her voice muffled against my chest. I move off of her with a quick apology and pull her back in my arms. I tip her chin up and kiss the hollow of her throat. It tastes salty, giving me a buzz of satisfaction that is was me who made her hot and sweaty like this. If thunder struck down and I died, I would die the happiest man on earth.

Being with her so intimately feels right. Perfect. I like being naked with her, both physically and emotionally. Laying myself bare, showing her everything I have, everything I am. I'm not afraid when I'm with her.

**Hailey's POV**

I think I have finally stepped into a fairy tale, the one I imagined when I sat next to Jay's hospital bed. I'm living in it, right at this moment, being gently awakened by Jay kissing me all over my face. Soft little kisses that make my nerves tingle as his lips tickle my skin. I Cuddle even closer to him, if that's even possible, our legs tangling up together, our bare bodies brushing against each other. Which in turns leads to unhurried, delicious, morning sex.

And it's my turn to search his body. Map it with my lips and my tongue and my hands and my fingers. Find and memorize all his scars, all the little marks and freckles on his body. I want to know everything about him.

We take a shower together and we can't keep our hand off of each other. I barely recognize the mewling sound coming from my own throat. I'm completely undone and every touch of his hands and lips is so sweetly romantic I want to lose myself in him forever. At this rate, I'll never leave this apartment. When the water starts to run cold, he pulls me out and towels me dry, then lets me do the same to him. That's when I notice the jagged scar on his hip again.

"So, tell me about the scar," I say.

"It was supposed to be a simple recon mission. We wound up in a ground fight with some enemy soldiers. It lasted an entire day. We were exhausted and coming out of a building, while new troops were making their way towards us when one hit an IED. The explosion was huge, shrapnel shot like missile launchers and I took one to the leg," he rubs a hand over the scar, "Others around me took hits to their heads, chest, some died."

I can hear the sadness, and anxiety in his voice, and I know there's probably more to this story. But I wrap my arms around his neck and wait for him to meet my eyes, and when he does I stand on my tippy toes and kiss him. "I'm sorry you went through that, but I'm happy that you're here with me."

He smiles sweetly. "Now…" he says, taking my arm and exposing a burn mark on the inside of my elbow. "Where did you get this?"

I laugh. "Curling iron."

He chuckles. "Really?"

I nod. "I know, boring."

A brief smile touches his lips and he cups my cheek. "I like boring."

"You calling me boring?"

He grins fully now and lays a soft, toe-curling kiss on my lips. "I would never. Not after the last twelve hours."

We kiss some more in the embrace of an afterglow, dressing each other for the day, totally relaxed and whole. A small voice at the back of my head is telling me to guard my heart, but it's too late. Jay has taken my heart, my soul, and everything I am.

* * *

**Thank you for reading. I guess my version after 7x09 is a tad more dramatic. Can't wait to see Upstead evolve the rest of the season. Cheers! **


	10. Chapter 10

**Rated [M]**

**Hailey's POV**

"Hey, look who's here?" Ruzek pipes up. "Good to see you, man."

"Just dropping off my IPR for the kidnapping case," Jay explains. "Better late than never."

Ruzek pats Jay gently on his back. "You'll be back here in no time."

My eyes lift to meet Jay's. His smile comes and it lights me up from the inside.

"It's good to see you, _again_," Vanessa says with a sly innuendo, which makes me laugh. The corners of Jay's lips also twitch while he fights his shy smirk from spreading wider with no success.

Jay and I have had a pretty solid, happy few days. Everything is new; a mystery waiting to be explored. My stomach flutters at the mere thought of him. Every kiss, every nibble, every touch is doubly precious, double exciting. I count down the minutes on days when we plan to meet. I honestly cannot bear the thought of losing him. The very idea makes my stomach clench in terror.

"Any word on when they'll have the trial?" Burgess asks.

"No," he answers. When he speaks again, his voice is stripped of any emotion. "Could be as early as next month or next year."

"Maybe there won't even be a trial," Burgess adds kindly.

Jay doesn't say anything but briefly catches my eye and offers everyone a small smile.

He proceeds into Voight's office and doesn't resurface until a half an hour later wearing a look of concern on his face. I put down the case report I'm writing and offer to walk him out. I follow him silently to the loading dock, and before we step outside I tug at his arm and hold out my hand. He grins and takes it, his fingers wrapping warmly and comfortably about mine.

"Want to tell me what happened in there?" I ask cautiously.

Jay's look of concern fades into a smile. "Nothing we don't already know. Voight's source says the DA is pushing to get my case tried as soon as possible."

I nod, not knowing if that's a good thing or not. "Did he say anything else?"

"Crawford wants to meet with me. I think he is worried about his software tanking."

"He should," I say, hearing the bite in my voice before I can stop it. "It's the reason we are here. We only pursued Marcus because of it."

"Regardless, I should've done my due diligence," he says calmly.

My muscles tighten and I have to refrain from grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him. "Babe, that's not on you, and I will keep repeating this until you believe it. We are all complicit on it."

"If I don't take a deal, it might be the end of intelligence," he says. A look of determination ripples across his face.

The air leaves my lungs with a whoosh. "Jay…" I say cautiously. "What are you thinking?" I touch his face to bring him back to me. He takes my hand and places over his chest, to his heart. I can feel it beating under my palm – the same heartbeat that has lulled me to sleep for so many nights now.

He whispers, "You know I love you, right?"

"I love you too," I say, and he leans in, closing the distance separating us. His lips brush over mine for a few lingering moments, and when that's not enough, because it's never enough, he clasps the back of my neck and presses his mouth down harder. His fingers tighten on my nape and I breath him in and savor his now familiar taste. When he finally pulls back, I tingle from head to toe.

He looks down at me with a glassy look in his eyes and my heart hangs suspended for a moment and then beats again. "What are you thinking?" I ask again.

"Voight says Crawford is going to offer me a deal, and if it's a good one, I will take it."

I shake my head. "What did Voight say?"

"He doesn't want me to take the deal. Told me to push back."

"And you should," I say, my voice shaky. I breathe deep, trying to control my emotions, but I'm ragged. "A deal will put all the blame on you. You will lose your badge."

"But I might be able to keep you," he says. "I'm facing five-to-ten if I'm convicted."

I shake my head, my heart teeming with conflicting emotions. "It's not fair."

Jay strokes his thumbs across my chin, his nail grazing the edge of my lower lip. "It never is," he says. "What happened to Marcus wasn't fair either."

I close my eyes; tears tangle up in my lashes. I take a step back. "There's no convincing you, huh?"

"Hails…" He says and reaches for me. "What would you do in my shoes? Go down alone, or bring everyone else along?"

I look at him for a long moment. He knows my answer – alone would be my choice. He pulls me to him, and I yield to his embrace. He wraps his arms around me, his cheek resting atop my head. "I can't lose you," he whispers into my hair. "And I won't."

His words should have calmed my qualms, but it only made it burn brighter. I will lose him. Jay is a soldier and the best cop I know. If he gives up this part of him, I'm afraid he won't have legs to stand on. It will break him.

"Promise me one thing," I ask, my voice muffled in his chest.

He looks down at me quizzically and says, "Anything."

I pull slightly away from him looking into the depth of his eyes. "Promise me you won't accept a deal before telling me."

"I promise," he says, and presses his warm lips against mine.

I watch Jay leave and I feel a heavy weight pressing on my heart, an overpowering sensation of dread that is undefined and without shape. The past is gone, the present is here, and our future is unknown.

**Jay's POV**

I'm at the ivory tower waiting to see Crawford. Voight said this meeting is merely to check my temperature and push me into taking the deal, which he advised against. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous, because I am. Crawford has the power to pull enough strings and make things go away, but he can also lock me up and throw away the key.

"Detective Halstead," Crawford say as I enter his office. The word rolls out of his tongue as if the title still applies to me.

"Superintendent," I say, and when he motions to a chair in front of him I take a seat.

"How's the shoulder?" he asks.

"Good."

"Heard you gave your team quiet the scare," he adds.

I nod. "I guess it was rough for a couple of days there."

He plasters a tight lipped smile on his face. "Voight has nothing but good things to say about you, and you have an impressive record. Commendation on top of commendation… recipient of multiple medals of honor—"

"You can save the flattery. Just give it to me straight," I say.

He pauses for a moment and interlaces his fingers and places them, clasped, on the table. "The DA wants to go to trial. This has all the workings to turn this into a high profile case… white cop, innocent dead African-American… I don't have to spell it out for you." He releases a breath and continues. "We don't want that. Your brothers in blue don't need another smear campaign, not to mention how they will paint intelligence—"

"—And your software," I add, knowing this is the only thing he is really worried about.

Crawford sits back in his chair and looks at me a bit stunned. For a moment, we sit in silence.

"I know the facial recognition software needs improvements. We are working on it. But this tool has amazing potential. It will help us get the bad guys off the streets."

"Or any black guy," I retort.

He smiles, tightly, with no humor, and glares at me. "Look Jay—"

"—What are they offering?" I cut to the point, not in the mood to be dancing around the subject.

Crawford releases a heavy sigh that sounds like resignation more than relief, then says, "If you plead guilty to false arrest and imprisonment, they will bring the charges down to misconduct. You'll do six months to a year, if that."

"My badge?"

"You'll be stripped," he says then quickly adds. "But Intelligence will be spared. Your name won't be dragged out through the mud. You can still build a life for yourself."

I look at this self-serving prick, his words setting a quiet fury boiling in my veins. "Let's say I don't take the deal."

"You risk going to jail for a long time. In this political climate they will push for the maximum sentence. Not to mention, the city will push to disband Intelligence."

"What about you? What happens to you?"

Anger matching my own flashes in his eyes. But only for a moment before he shakes his head and shrugs. "Nothing."

"Oh, I think you have a whole lot to lose here," I retort. "You know they will drag you for pushing a biased software." I sit back. "If I go to trial, it will all be exposed. Voight has a term, mutually assured destruction."

"Watch yourself, detective." He says sharply. "Take the plea."

I shake my head. "I will take my chances at trial."

"You risk losing everything."

I think of Hailey, but I push her quickly out of my mind. "This job is everything I have. And I will lose it if I take the plea, so I will roll the dice and go to trial."

I stand and he does too. "Son, don't throw your life away," he cautions. "Go home and think about it."

"You too," I say.

I walk out of there wired, my mind unsettled, my thoughts spinning like a boardwalk wheel of fortune, round and round I go where I'll land nobody knows – probably jail. I did what Voight said and called Crawford's bluff. I don't know if that was the right move, but I did it. Everything in me wants to take the deal, do my time and move on with my life. I'm no saint, I have blood on my hands, and six months is not nearly enough time to pay for my sins.

I need to call Hailey.

x

I'm restless and I can barely sit still. I've been pacing around the apartment for too long. The nerves in my brain are exploding like bursting fireworks. I might be overthinking things a bit, but I'm pretty sure Crawford is asking the DA to lock my ass up so he can throw away the key.

It's nearly eight o'clock when Hailey knocks on my apartment door. I open and she rushes inside like a miniature whirlwind.

"Look," I say before she has the chance to ask anything. "There's a deal on the table. If I accept it, I will do a year, maybe less." I half expect her to argue, but she doesn't. Instead, she continues to look intently at me. "I said no, that I would take my chances at trial. But now I think that might have been the wrong thing to say. And I've been—"

"—What else did you tell him?"

"Nothing really, just called his bluff." I sigh loudly. "I don't know if I just dug myself deeper here."

After a beat she says, "You didn't."

I look directly at her for the first time since she arrived and notice her eyes are glassy and bright. Tears roll down her cheeks and are caught in the corner of her wide smile. Slowly she pulls something from her coat pocket and I see that it is my badge. All I can do is utter her name.

"Hailey…?"

"Voight wanted me to do the honors," she says through tears.

"W-Wha—I don't understand?"

"The charges were dropped," she explains and gives me another teary smile.

"H-How?" I ask, making no attempt to stop my tears from flowing. "I-I don't understand."

"Crawford called Voight and let him know the charges were dropped. Whatever you said to him worked."

She walks towards me and puts her arms around me, her lips to my lips and kisses me like I'm her long lost love. She holds me tightly, her arms around me and I embrace her too, kissing her back with equal eagerness. The kiss becomes wet with a trail of tears from our eyes.

"How is this possible?" I blurt against her mouth.

"I don't know," she says and grins. "But you did it."

I kiss her again, trying to find my center. Our tongues tangle and dance and Hailey's hands sneaks under the bottom of my shirt so I feel her warm fingers on the bare skin of my stomach. I groan into her mouth as love short circuits my already disoriented brain. I break the kiss for a moment and look at my girl. She presses closer to me and I move my hands to her hips, lifting her easily. Hailey wraps her legs around my waist and her mouth finds its way to my neck where she kisses and nips at my skin, making the fire burn hotter inside me.

I make my way to the bedroom and pin her against the wall. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes are narrowed, her lips parted as though waiting for my kiss. She's absolutely, heart-stoppingly beautiful. I know I'll never forget the privilege of seeing her this way. I take a mental picture, wanting to remember this moment, this feeling forever.

**Hailey's POV **

It is amazing how everything can turn so quickly, change in a breath.

"You are mine," he says and looks at me like he's staring right into the very heart of me. The part I keep hidden from everyone else. Sex with Jay always makes me feel exposed, vulnerable, but also…safe.

"And you're mine," I counter and reach for the bottom of his shirt and begin to pull it over his head.

He kisses me everywhere, touching every inch of my skin until I am pliable in his arms. He sets me down on the floor and yanks my jacket and my shirt off. He brings his lips to my neck and begins kissing again, working his way down. He pulls my pants and underwear down, his hand gently caressing the side of my hip, down to my calf. He gives me a dazed smile and his lips touch me _there_. I groan as an electric current runs through my insides, making my legs feel like jelly.

"Jay, I'm going to fall," I warn.

He chuckles in a low voice. "I won't let you fall."

I'm almost jealous when I think about how skilled he is at _this_—about how much practice he must have had to be this good. He knows exactly what he is doing and I whimper, my breath coming in shallow, short pants now. I'm not sure how much longer my legs are going to support me. "Babe…Just…." I grab him by his shoulders.

He slowly stands, kissing a line from my belly button to my lips. "Stop."

"What?" I say against his mouth.

"You're thinking." He kisses me. "Stop."

"I just… I want _you_," I plea.

He moves the hair out of my face, cups my chin, and his lips crash against mine. I free him from his pants and he lifts me up again. My legs automatically wrap around him and he slowly slides inside of me. His hand holds me tightly around my waist, taking my weight as he rocks back and forth. It's slow, and deep, and oh so intense. Every pulse triggers a response that threatens to send me tumbling over.

I feel as if I am floating into oblivion. I have never felt as intoxicated as I feel at this moment—pinned against a wall. His body generates heat like a bonfire, consuming me. My head falls back and I feel his breath on my neck, his breathing in my ear. Somewhere in the distance I can hear myself moaning but I don't recognize my own voice. All at once I can feel the buildup. Before I even have time to think about it my body starts to quiver as my senses explode. Jay pulls me to his chest, holding me tight, and I feel him come too.

We collapse blissfully on the floor, both panting and out of breath. We look at each other and we start to actually giggle, like two teenagers, until we are both full on laughing. Tears roll down my eyes. This time not in fear but in joy— weeks of emotional strain fall from our shoulders.

"You're still smiling," he says and one of his arms circles around me. He pulls me against him, as we sit with our backs resting against the wall. His fingers begin tracing patters on my arm.

"We never made it to the bed," I say.

"Beds are overrated," he replies, kissing my nose.

"That was a first for me."

"What was?" he asks bemused.

"The wall."

"Really?"

We look at each other and start laughing again, unable to stop the flow of emotional release because it feels so good. We laugh until our sides hurt and out cheeks are sore.

I've never felt more alive.

* * *

**Thank you for reading. Can't wait to watch tonight's episode, though I have a feeling we won't get much Upstead. But here is to hoping! Cheers! **


	11. Chapter 11

**Hailey's' POV**

It's been a week since Jay was reinstated, and a full week since we gave a name to the _thing_ between us (drum roll—we're dating). We are keeping a low profile since we've both been burned by workplace relationships. In our line of work, the things that bring us together are also what tears us apart. But this is important to both of us, so we are going to make it work. I chant this thought over and over in my head as if repetition will make it true.

We are indulging in a lazy morning, which doesn't come by often. I'm half-dressed on his bed, lying on my stomach reading a case report. Jay is sitting against the bed frame, tracing lazy patterns on my back while watching a game on his phone. Our current case went cold a few days ago and I've been going over old files trying to catch a break. The one I'm currently knee deep in looks promising, but there are a lot of redacted information and the detective who authored the report is none other than Erin Lindsay.

"What's up?" Jay asks. "You got that look on your face."

Jay can sense and pick up clues a mile away. "What look?"

"Oh you know, the cute frown, eyes narrow, head tilted look."

He flashes me a bright smile and I punch him playfully on the arm. I push myself up and sit alongside him at the headboard, rubbing shoulders. "How difficult would it be to get in touch with Erin?"

I can see so many emotions in his eyes. "Uh… I'm not sure. Why?"

"Well," I begin. "She wrote this report and the name of her CI is redacted. I think this informant might be able to helps us with the case."

Jay takes the folder, a frown creasing his forehead as he leafs through the pages. "If you really think this will help, Voight probably has a way to contact her."

He shrugs and hands me back the file. I feel a slight shift between us after mentioning Erin's name. I only briefly met her, and when I came into the picture the two of them were broken up. But I remember feeling like I was disrupting the energy between them when I was partnered with Erin. I know she meant a lot to him because I was there for the fallout and what ensured after she left.

"Can I ask you a question?" I say.

"Sure, what is it?"

I hesitate a moment or two before I say, "Tell me about you and Lindsay."

For a moment he looks taken aback by my question. Then his face relaxes, his expression softens to something more casual. He puts his phone down and looks directly at me. "What do you want to know?"

"Beginning to end?"

He smiles and nods. "We dated on an off for a while. Voight wasn't always a fan, but eventually we got the green light from him," he starts and chuckles at some distant memory. "He actually told me to keep it in my pants once." I remain quiet and listen to his voice, low and smooth –never rising, never falling. He talks about everything very matter-of-factly, never letting the depth of his feelings show, which I expected. If he ever asks me about Garrett, I'm sure I will do the same. "We were good at one point. We even moved in together, but I screwed it up. Things I hadn't dealt with resurfaced and I jumped ship. I was ashamed of my past and I wanted to deal with it alone – not the right move, I know that now."

His words calm me, but something in his tone makes me go very still. He is staring intensely at me, and there in his eyes I see it – regret.

"Did you love her?" I hear myself asking.

His mouth quirks upwards in an enigmatic half-smile and his hand comes to rest subtly on my bare thigh. "Yeah, I did." His honesty cuts through me harsher than I expected. "I think she was my first _real_ love; you know? Sort of all-consuming and chaotic. Looking back, I regret the way things ended, but we both knew it was best to go our separate ways."

His voice dwindles and I gaze at him blankly for a moment. I am afraid of what I will see there, in his eyes—but I find nothing but love, and trust, and hope. After a beat, I say, "I get it. Relationships are hard."

Jay takes my hands into his and brings them to his lips, lingering there. "Lindsay is a part of my past and I learned a lot from that relationship. I'm glad it happened. But it ended and I moved on."

"Took you a minute," I say, trying to smile and lighten the mood.

"It all imploded at once, which was a blessing in disguise because it made me deal with everything head on. You know..." A smile plays around his lips and his eyes become impossibly bright. Without warning he moves to straddle me, and sits down on my thighs. It's an intimate move and one I find myself enjoying. "I only went to therapy because of you."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah…" Grinning at me, Jay reaches a finger out to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. "You threatened to find a new partner if I didn't go."

"Hmph," I say. "So, tough love works. Noted."

There is a long silence while he looks at me and then he speaks, his voice lethally soft. "I don't know about the tough part, but definitely the love…the love always works."

The sweet, boyish grin on his face brings a rush of warmth all over me. He brings his hands to cup my face and leans in, pressing his mouth softly against mine, pouring all his love and assurance into this kiss – I practically sigh. Every kiss that Jay gives me is like the first kiss, but this one is taking my breath away. It is sweet and sensuous and loving that I can't catch my breath and I can't get enough of it – of him.

I press myself closer, wrapping my arms around his neck. His lips then move from my mouth to my neck, brushing along my jawline. My head tilts to the side giving him better access as he leans in a little closer.

He pushes my camisole up and I raise my arms as he slips the fabric off me and tosses on the ground. He resumes kissing my neck, my chest, my breasts with agonizingly slow caresses that awaken every nerve cell in my body.

He takes his boxers off and grabs my wrists and pulls it to his mouth, plants a kiss on my palm before pinning it over my head. He kisses my ribs and draws a wet line down to my belly button. The endless kisses continue, and I try to get him to hurry along, but he keeps this slow, agonizing pace that leaves me somewhere between frustrated and excited. I know he wants to savor the moment, but this is torture.

He presses his head to mine and looks at me – eyes soft and dreamy. "My heart is yours."

His voice and touch is my undoing.

His free hand slides my underwear down and he slowly eases himself inside of me. The pace finally picks up and everything that ensues after has me crumbling underneath him. Every time he pushes far into me, my legs shake. We end up collapsing together. He gives me a long kiss before he rolls off of me and I feel his absence more acutely than I would like. But then his arms are wrapping around me, pulling me close. I shut my eyes, trying to catch my breath, feeling like every inch of me is on fire.

I might not have been his first love, but I hope to be his last.

**Jays' POV**

We've hit a wall with our case, and it's really messing with Hailey. Her lead with Lindsay's CI didn't pan out and once again we are at a dead end. Every day we don't solve this case, another girl goes missing. This sex trafficking ring is organized and well-connected. They see us coming from a mile away. We've apprehended a few low level players, but we didn't have enough to make them flip.

"We have to go undercover, sarge." Hailey suggests, careful to keep her face blank. She knows Voight is keeping a close eye on her. He will sideline her the moment he thinks she's too close to the case.

"Area central doesn't want to risk us going undercover," Voight replies. "We have to keep—"

"—Since when do we abide by what area central says?" Hailey interrupts, an ironic note in her voice. "Look, we've tried going at this from every angle possible. We need eyes inside."

I bite my lip and I watch silently as Voight scrutinizes her face with renewed attention. "Okay, what do you have in mind?" Voight asks, entertaining her idea.

"We need a way in and Jay has a CI," she starts, and I don't like where she's headed. "He can introduce me as _product_. I will go under."

Hailey flashes me a tightlipped smile, but I'm not sure how to react to it right now. I just try to not look as troubled as I feel. "My CI is a low level dealer," I answer carefully. "His supplier is the one that scouts for girls. I don't know if he can get us in with _this_ ring."

"We have nothing else, sarge," Hailey counters and looks around the room for confirmation. "How many more girls are we going to lose?" She walks up to the board and points to the seven pictures pinned there. "They didn't deserve to die like this, and it's our job to make sure this doesn't happen again."

Voight closes his eyes and rubs his forehead with the tips of his fingers. I can see that he is thinking hard. After several seconds, he says, "Jay, arrange a meet with your CI, and I want to be there." He pauses and looks around the room. "Look, we do this off the books. In the meantime, squeeze the men we apprehended. Implicate their families if that's what it takes."

Voight retreats to his office and I begin the task of contacting my CI to arrange a meet. I do this reluctantly and almost begrudgingly. There are a lot of risks involved, and I know my unwillingness stems solely because of Hailey's involvement. But I can't let my personal feelings cloud my judgment. This is a good plan, albeit dangerous, but good.

Moments later I see Hailey go into the break room and I follow. "Hey."

"Hey," she says, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

"You sure about going under?" I ask carefully.

Hailey turns to look at me searchingly for a moment, and immediately sees in my face what I don't say aloud. Gauging her response very carefully, she says, "I can handle this."

"I know. That's not what I'm worried about."

She looks at me for a few seconds. "What are you worried about? This will be like any other UC case."

Except it isn't. Rather than telling her the truth – that she's too close to the case – I choose the coward's way out. "This will be off the books, Hailey. If anything happens there's no cavalry coming to get you out. It's too dangerous."

Immediately her back straightens, and her face hardens into a mask. "It's part of the job. You know that better than anyone here," she says.

I hear the underlying meaning behind her words. "Hailey, listen—"

"—Everything will be fine. As long as the team is watching my six, I don't need any cavalry." She gives me a tight lip smile. "Besides, you are worried about something that we don't even know if it will happen. Did you arrange a meet with your CI?"

I nod. "It's happening tomorrow."

I see hope balloon in her eyes. "Let's take this one step at a time. If after the meeting Voight kills the idea, I promise not to push it, okay?" She smiles and reaches out a hand, touching my chest. I take her hand in mine and hold it there. "This is one of those things we have to learn to navigate through if we want to make this work," she says, lowering her voice.

I nod. "I just…" I pause, mustering up the courage to tell her what's really bothering me. I need to come clean – this is how I do things differently with Hailey. "I worry you are too close to this. These people don't mess around."

As I expected, her smile fades and her brow furrows. She extracts her hand from mine and crosses her arms, eyes throwing sparks. "Of course I'm close to this case. We are talking about girls who were pimped out, killed, and then thrown in a dumpster like they were trash."

"Hailey…" I pause and slowly move us so we're not standing directly in front of the door. "This anger you're feeling right now? It will get you killed when you're under." She purses her lips and looks like she's about to argue. But she knows I'm right. "Look," I tip her chin up so she is looking up at me. "You are the best cop for the job. No doubt. I just want you to know that—"

"—Jay, I appreciate your concern, but my head is straight. I got this, kay?"

I watch her face harden into her typical stoic mask – stoic with a hint of nonchalance, a look she probably honed over the years as a cop.

"Alright," I say, throwing up my hands in surrender. "If you say so."

She motions with her head towards the bullpen. "We should get back."

I nod and follow her out.

We don't discuss this further. We go about out day and night as if this conversation hadn't happened, but there's this dark cloud that looms over us and I want so badly to beat it back to where it came from. She knows I'm concerned; knows I'm scrutinizing her every move. I can't help it. But despite my qualms, I'm all in. Good or bad, right or wrong. I just hope she sees this concern on my part as an extension of my love for her, and not that I doubt her in any way.

* * *

**Hello! I'm back and switching gears a bit since Jay's story line was resolved. I think Hailey's "dark" side will be explored the rest of the season (7x12 showed us a little bit of this), so would you like me to speculate here? Let me know! Cheers!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Rated [M]**

**Jay's POV**

Hailey is undercover.

Voight greenlighted the operation and she went under as a bartender at a club that is a front for running girls. It's been only a few days, but we've already identified key players within the sex-trafficking ring. This is the first break we had since the case dropped, and it's all because of her. Hailey and I have barely talked, and I haven't been able to take her temperature. She's playing things close to the vest – as is her habit. She knows Voight will pull her out if he senses that she's even a little out of kilter.

I come home after a heavy day of surveillance and hear a knock at my door. I look out the peephole and it's none other than Hailey. I quickly open the door and am sort of stunned to see her wearing this skimpy little outfit that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. A huge, unabashed smile splits my face from ear to ear.

"You're going to invite me in?" She asks, noticing that I'm looking at her funny.

I clear my throat. "You look…amazing," I finally say, aware of what an understatement that is.

A pink flush colors her cheeks before she ducks her head, charmingly flustered. "You don't look so bad yourself."

I take a step closer, sliding my arms around her waist. The scent of sweetened alcohol and vanilla wafts from her. "C'mere, you."

I bend down and capture her lips with mine, tasting a fruity cocktail on her breath_. _It seems like the only reasonable thing to do at the moment. She wraps her arms around my neck and sighs, a soft happy sound. I pull her inside the apartment and kick the door close. I press her back against the door and deepen the kiss slowly, like we have all the time in the world for this, I know we don't but, right now, in this moment, in this kiss, I feel like we do.

Her fingers sneak up under my shirt, across my bare stomach and up my sides. It tickles, and I hiss a little breath, which makes her smile.

"How long do I have you for?" I ask, knowing she can't stay long.

"An hour, maybe two," she says. "I'm running errands."

"Oh, so I'm an errand now?"

"I can go if you want," she says, somehow managing to keep a straight face. "I can find _other_ errands to run," but she can't keep it up; she quickly dissolves into laughter.

"No, no, no," I press a kiss to her jawline and her breath catches. I feel a snap of satisfaction. "Stay. Please, stay." I run my lips along her collarbone and my day-old stubble tickles her neck. She breaks from my arms with a soft chuckle, all light and airy.

"I missed you," she says.

"I've missed you too," I say, gently nipping her earlobe. "You sure this is okay?"

"Yeah. We're good."

Our eyes meet for a moment before I close my mouth over hers. My hand runs up her shorts, tracing the curve of her hip. She tugs at the hem of my shirt and I lift my arms obediently and she pulls it off me, tosses it aside. She makes a little sighing noise, runs her hands across my chest and kisses me again. I wedge my thigh between her legs and push forward, grip her hips, and bring her towards me, kissing her slower. Her legs wrap around my hips and I pull her tight up against me. I get a little moan out of that one, which gives rise to the zipper of my jeans.

"This feels like a booty call," I say in-between kisses.

"This is totally a booty call." She smiles, really smiles; she has the most beautiful smile and her whole face lights up. "You don't have a problem with that, do you?"

I hold back a laugh. "No, not at all."

She laughs and I carry her to my bedroom, pushing the door open with my foot and then gently laying her down on my bed. Moving over her, I kiss her thighs and slowly pull her shorts off. Glancing up at her, I see that she is watching me, her eyes heavy-lidded, her cheeks flushed. Placing a kiss on her stomach, I take in a breath and finish the trail up her body to her mouth.

She pushes me back so I'm on my knees and starts undoing my jeans, button by button. Slowly she works my pants off, then for a brief second, she glances up, her eye locking with mine. An excited flush stains her cheeks, probably the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. She mutters something, but I'm having trouble processing what she's saying because her fingers wrap around my dick, slowly sliding up and down with a light teasing touch, then with increasing pressure and pace. Then her lips are on me and I almost lose it right then. The world fades away. It goes dark – or maybe my eyes are closing. I shift on the bed, arching into her touch involuntarily, panting like I've been running a marathon.

"Hailey," I grunt, "You're going to kill me…"

I manage to hold on to control somehow as she wrecks me. Just when I think I'll die, the pressure starts uncoiling so fast it jerks my whole body, the pleasure so sharp it blows my already reeling mind. I'm vaguely aware when she pulls away. Man, she has me on another planet right now. It takes me a moment to recover, but when I do the eagerness in her face makes me laugh (mischievously). I return the favor, arousing her slowly, teasing her with my tongue and fingers until she loses herself completely. I can't help a bit of the satisfaction at the way she looks right now – all pleased, all beautifully sated.

Moving back up her body, I kiss her cheeks, her neck, and ever so gently, her lips – our flavors mingling. I lie on my back, and she rolls over onto me with her head resting on my chest, kissing as she does. "I have to go soon," she says.

I wrap my arms around her, our bodies a sweaty mess, and exhale before I respond, "Promise me you're good under."

She raises her head off my chest and gives me a blank look. "Jay, I'm good. Head's on straight."

"But if you feel like you're drifting—"

"—Babe, I know you're worried, but I'm good. I know I've been overzealous with this case, but I would never jeopardize it. I promise I'm being careful."

I nod. "I know, and I'm not doubting you for a minute," I quickly add. "I just know things can get blurry when you're inside." I kiss her lips, unsure if my words stirred any ill feelings. "But the thing I'm most worried about are these little outfits you are wearing."

Her eyes soften; she realizes immediately what I'm getting at. "What about them?"

"If you keep wearing them, you'll have to run _errands_ more often," I counter with a smile, and she narrows her eyes playfully. "I'm just letting you know."

She cocks a brow. "Oh really?"

"Mmm-hm." I try to hide my smile.

She swats playfully at my chest and her nail scratches my skin.

"Ouch!" I grab my chest in mock pain.

"Here, let me make it better."

Hailey starts kissing my chest, slowly licking the irritated skin. Although playful at first, her kisses become more intense and passionate, stirring heat between us once more. Once she brushes her leg across me, the softness of her skin and her treatment on my chest brings me back to full attention. Before either us realize it, another round starts. It's more intense than before, if that's possible. We end up on the edge of the bed, even on the floor.

God, I love this girl.

x

I walk her outside and a cold breeze rolls over and bites at my skin. The pavement is wet, but it stopped raining and the night sky is bright and clear, or at least as bright and clear as it gets in the city. "How come you're not cold?" I ask her.

"Oh, I'm cold. This jacket does nothing to ward off the chill," she says.

I reach over and wrap an arm around her pulling her to me. It's late enough that everything's quiet, the only sound we hear are of cars passing by. We reach her car and I pull away, running my hands up and down her arms to keep her warm.

"Text me when you get in. Let me know you got there okay," I say.

"I'll be fine," she says, with a little sigh.

"I know. But humor me, okay?"

She nods and I lean in, capturing her lips. "I'll see you tomorrow? Voight wants a debrief."

"Yeah. First thing tomorrow morning."

We stand there, lingering, smiling like fools, trying to stretch these last few minutes together as much as possible. I already miss her, even though she's still in front of me. I grab her chin lightly and move her face so that I can kiss her lips again, but she beats me to it by moving her head and kissing me.

"Text me," I say against her lips.

The sounds of a car screeching to a stop, followed by, "Look who's getting some action on the side," echoes in the air. Hailey immediately pulls away and I see her face blanch. I look and recognize one of the club owners with his head popped out from the passenger window. "Tamara said you were running errands."

I open my mouth to respond, but Hailey shakes her head almost imperceptibly and places a hand on my chest. She takes a deep breath, puts her most dazzling smile on her face and slowly walks towards the car. Crossing her arms in front of her, she leans against the passenger-side door. "Tony, are you following me?" Her voice is light and playful, her face calm, or at least she's covering well if she isn't. "Or did you just miss me too much?"

"I'm just a concerned boss," he answers. "When my newest girl goes missing. I worry."

"I'm flattered," she says, her voice sultry and low.

"You done with your _errand_?" He stares past her at me, sizing me up.

"Just about," Hailey answers, tossing her hair back. "I will be back in 10 minutes," she says and brushes a finger down along his nose. He grins disgustingly at her while playing with the ends of her hair. Anger boils up inside me and I swear my ears are going to start shooting steam any moment.

Hailey turns and walks the short distance back to me. "I had fun," she says, her voice laced with an artificial sugary sweetness, but her eyes are soft and worried. "See you around?"

"Yeah, come back anytime."

She gets into her car and drives off.

Tony eyes me up and down again and I just stare at him, resisting the urge to break his nose. I clench my hands and square my shoulders and memorize his face, the car, and his driver. He speeds away with its tires skidding as it swerves into the street where it fishtails, then surges forward with its tires squealing, and then disappears around the corner.

Call it instinct, but I have a bad feeling about this.

**Hailey's POV**

I wake up to the sun shining on my face as it streams through the early morning clouds. I get up to go to the bathroom and stare at my reflection in the mirror. I see that my left eye is swollen shut and horribly black, blue and purple. Above my eyebrow the bruising is turning green and yellow and a small scab is forming under my lip. When I try to take in a deep breath, I feel pain in my abdomen. I lift my shirt and see a black and blue bruise on my stomach from where Tony repeatedly punched me. I hold back my anger and take a long hot shower, wincing as the water hits my battered body.

After I came back to the club and worked the late shift at the bar, Tony called me into his office and proceeded to beat the crap out of me as punishment for stepping out earlier. I couldn't break my cover so I just let him. He knows the cops are lurking around and this is his way of keeping everyone in check. He is nervous and rightly so, because we're going to nail his ass.

I pull on a hat and oversized sunglasses and head to meet with Voight. I hope he doesn't pull the plug. We have to take this sex-trafficking ring down, no matter the cost. But I'm not really concerned about Voight, he knows this is part of the job. It's Jay's reaction I'm worried about. I am trying not to think about it too much, but he is going to lose it when he seems me – I already know it.

I park my car at our meeting spot and see that they are already here. Jay is leaning against the truck, holding two coffee cups. I get out and immediately his face scrunches when he sees me. He narrows his eyes then begins to take determined steps towards me. I brace myself for his reaction.

"Hailey, is everything—" The sunlight hits my face and the bruising on my lower cheek becomes obvious. "What the—" He freezes for a millisecond and his face contorts into a look of horror. He puts the coffee cups down and pulls my hat and glasses off. _Shit_. "Hailey, what happened? Who did this to you?" He reaches for me, but I take a step back. "Hailey—"

"—Jay, it's nothing. I'm fine." I shake my head and wince in pain. "I got in the middle of a bar fight last night," I say – a lie I've been practicing in my head all night. "Wrong place, wrong time."

Voight walks up and gives me a once over. "What happened?"

"Nothing, sarge. Just as stupid bar fight. I'm good. Just a few bruises." I try to sound indifferent, but my voice comes out blurred and plaintive. Voight continues to study me, but I keep a nonchalant façade. From my periphery I see Jay just about ready to blow the top of his head off, clasping a hand over his mouth, smothering a few expletives.

I reach for my pocket and fish out a piece of paper. "These are a few address I've picked up. I think they are stash houses where they keep the girls."

"Sarge, we have enough to go on," Jay begins. "Let's pull her out."

"No," I contest. Jay looks at me, his eyes filled with anguished fury. "We don't have enough for a search warrant yet, and I'm fine."

"You sure, you're okay?" Voight asks.

I swallow and try to erase all emotion from my face. "Yes."

Jay mutters a few choice words at that. "This is crazy. We should pull her out."

"I'm fine," I repeat through gritted teeth, only to silently gasp at the burst of pain in my jaw.

"Damn it, Hailey. You're not fine." Jay closes his eyes and runs a hands over his face. "You might have a broken jaw, a concussion, or a broken eye socket for all we know..."

"It was a silly bar fight," I say. "Ask any bartender. This is a rite of passage."

"Hailey…" Jay looks down at me, his eyes pleading. "This was anything but a silly a bar fight."

I glare at him. He needs to reel it in.

"Is your cover still intact?" Voight asks.

"Yeah, more so now."

"You gotta be kidding me!" Jay mutters. "There's no way she can go ba—"

Voight raises his hand to stop Jay's ramblings. "Hailey, write an IPR on the incident. Type it up and I want it on my desk tomorrow. In the meantime—" He stops at the sound of his cellphone ringing. Fishing the phone from his pocket, he looks down at the screen. "I have to take this."

I wave him off, and he walks in the direction of his truck.

I turn away, but Jay grabs my arm. I jerk out from his hold, but a searing pain— too much of it, too fast, comes at me from various sources. My head spins for a moment and my eyes water. Jay sees this all play out on my face. I meet his gaze and see worry and pain etched there. He leans towards me and I feel his hand touch my face. He gently cups my chin and lifts my head a little as if to inspect the damage.

"He beat you up didn't he." It's not a question, more of a statement.

I don't answer. I figure it's pointless to lie to him. "It's fine."

"It's not fine!" he exclaims and I flinch. "Babe, you're not fine."

I lower my face to avoid his eyes.

"Hails, look at me," he softly pleads. His hand lingers on my chin. I hesitantly look up. He has deep furrows on his forehead. "We will find another way in. It's not worth it."

I shake my head and dislodge his hand. "We can't. We are so close."

"It's too dangerous. If he did this, he is capable of doing much worse." He speaks softly at first but gets gradually louder. "This is how they operate, Hailey. Tony is not the type to—"

"Shhh!" I practically scream over him. "Can you please keep your damn voice down?" A small, bitter laugh escapes him. "I can handle it. Just let me—" At the sound of Voight's footsteps on the gravel returning, I bite my tongue.

"We are going to play this by ear. As soon as we have enough for a warrant, you'll pull you out. Hailey, you sure you're good?" Voight asks.

"Solid. These are just bruises, sarge."

Jay rolls his eyes and shakes his head, looking irritated.

"We'll keep everything as is," Voight begins. "I'm going to call Vice and see if they can help with surveillance. In the meantime, avoid bar fights."

"Copy that," I say.

Voight walks back to his car despite Jay's protests. I can hear him carry on very loudly even after I slip into my car and close the door. After they drive away I lean my head against the steering wheel and let myself cry for the first time. The walls are crumbling down around me. I'm coming unglued. I hit the steering wheel with the heel of my hand and pain shoots down my torso. "Damn it!"

I drive back to the UC apartment, step inside, and lean against the closed door. My whole body is sore and exhausted, ready to topple over. I don't have to go back to the club for another six hours and I just want to sleep. I take my pants off and leave it in a pile near the door and go to the bedroom. I sit on the bed, letting my thoughts drift in and out. Moments later I hear a noise and a cold feeling prickles the back of my neck. I slowly get up and peek out the bedroom door. I reach for my gun and hold it at my side. I hear the floors creak and poise my gun in front of me. Once I see the living room looks clear, I exit pointing my gun in every possible direction.

Then something moves on the periphery of my injured left eye. "You should just come out and save both of us some time," I say.

"Hailey, hey, it's me. Put your gun down."

At the sound of Jay's voice, I lower my gun. His arms close around me tentatively, unlike his usual firm grip, and I realize he is trying to keep from hurting me. Overwhelmed with what I think is relief, I lay my good cheek on his shoulder. I feel the trembling beneath his stillness though.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up on you. I came through the back because I think _they_ might be watching you."

"Jay, if you are here to—"

"I'm not here to argue. I just want to help." His voice is soft, a stark contract from earlier, and it reaches inside me to a raw, tender place. He pulls away and removes for the contents of a plastic bag on the floor. "Ice packs, heat packs, Aloe Vera, vitamin K cream… I have everything."

I release a sigh. "Thank you."

"But first I need to know…" He looks down at me, staring silently for a moment. He grabs my hand and runs his thumb over it. "Did he…" he shakes his head, as if dreading the answer, but needing to know despite the dread. "Did he do anything else?"

The look on his face makes my heart clench. I shake my head fiercely. "No, no," I squeeze his hand. "He didn't."

He nods, face pinched, his lips tight. He looks away, back to the contents of the plastic bag. For the next hour he inspects every inch of my body and puts all sorts of ointments and cold/hot packs on every bruise. He doesn't say anything else. I know he is waiting for me. But I'm not ready. I'm afraid he will hear the raw emotions in my voice and know how close I'm to caving. And I can't cave. I just need to internalize these feelings, switch off my brain, and focus on catching these guys.

* * *

**Thank you for reading and for your wonderful words of encouragement on the last chapter. This is a change of pace for this fic, but let me know what you think. Cheers, D. **


	13. Chapter 13

**Hailey's POV**

I wake up slowly; my consciousness returning at the sound of my neighbor talking on the phone, loud and fast – like a junkie. But his ramblings remain background noise because I can't seem to focus on anything except the pulsing pain in my head. I push myself up and the pain cranks up its volume, frequency, and pitch. I head to the bathroom and pop two pills and push it down with some water. I look at my reflection and see that my face still looks like a bruised peach, my left eye is slightly puffy, and my ribs don't take well to breathing.

I am angry, angrier than I've been in a long time—and I've been plenty angry. Some days when I see Tony at the club I feel as if I won't be able to control my anger and it will rise like a bubble to the surface and release its essence in one final pop – the pop being the sound of my gun going off.

But I can't let that happen, not yet.

Jay has repeatedly tried to offer support, but I can't let myself accept it. I know I will come undone if he so much as looks at me. Jay and I are connected, and I don't know if that's good or bad right now. He has a way of penetrating through my walls and dissolving them to the ground, and that can't happen. I know he means well and I'm eternally grateful he didn't blow the lid off this operation by telling the truth to Voight about how I got my bruises. Jay knows that despite everything, this is our only way in – this is how we take them down— and I need to keep clear of Jay in order for me to end this.

I get ready, head to the club, and find Tamara, the other bartender, already there. Tamara is a tall, slender girl with olive skin and dark brown eyes. She is young and sharp as a tack. She looks me up and down and says, "You look…better," although her tone is far from convincing.

"You don't have to lie. I know I look terrible."

"Yeah girl, you look like hell," Tamara agrees, though with enough of a smile to take the sting out of her remark. She looks around and leans in closer, lowering her voice to almost a whisper, "We have all been on the receiving end of his fists. Play by the rules. Keep your head down. Don't ask too many questions..." Now the smile disappears and she leans in even closer. "Tony's been acting all kinds of weird lately. It's like he is on a ticking time bomb."

"What do you mean?"

She shakes her head. "I don't know… his eyes don't seem right."

I nod. "It's hard work being an honest pimp nowadays," I say and Tamara bursts into laughter, but makes an attempt to be quiet about it. Unfortunately, her laughter is cut short when Tony emerges from somewhere out back.

He looks us up and down, but then looks pointedly at me with an expression of pure satisfaction, as if admiring his handy work on my face. I clench my hands into fists at my sides, and bite back the words threatening to claw their way free from my mouth.

"The back room is off limits. I don't want anyone going in there."

We both nod, and my curiosity peaks.

"As for you," he directs his attention to me, moving a step nearer. I can smell alcohol and cigarettes in his breath. "If you're tricking on the side for extra cash, I can help you increase your clientele," he says with eyes narrowing into menacing slits.

"That's very nice, but…" I glance around the empty club and lower my voice to a mock uninterested whisper. "I don't trick."

A stupid sneer surfaces on his face and he nods. "So that was not what you were doing the other night?"

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "No," I say curtly.

He leans towards me across the smooth wooden surface of the bar. Again, my nose is assailed by the sour odor of his breath. "Who was he then?" he asks.

"Who?" I feign ignorance.

Tony looks annoyed now. "The _errand_ boy from the other night," he spits back.

I'm not sure where this conversation is going, but I don't like it. "He is an old friend."

Tony's brow knit into a frown. "I'll tell you what, I want to meet this _old_ _friend_ of yours. Tell him to come by the club tonight. Drinks on the house."

"Why?"

I watch his shoulders stiffen with annoyance, or perhaps it is anger. "I want to make sure he is a good guy. I look out for my girls," he says, winking. "Tell him to come tonight. Free drinks."

"He's working tonight," I say calmly, with an eerie sense of detachment that comes with awareness of impending disaster. Jay can't be near Tony.

Tony sighs and bows his head. Another waft of his foul breath washes over me. I fight the urge to turn away. I watch him slowly lift his head and I cannot help but shudder at the changed expression on his face. Tony's voice drops to no more than a whisper when he says, "Tell your _friend_ to be here tonight, and that your life depends on it."

The words are spoken in a gruff tone, harsh and menacing, and it could go down as the most thinly veiled threat ever. A cold shiver runs through me but I try to not let it show. "I will let him know," I say.

A voice speaks, loudly, "Tony, _Dónde estás_?"

A man enters the club through the same door from which Tony emerged. He is old and grizzled, bent over a cane that clunks on the wooden floors as he hobbles forward. I've never seen him before, but the facial features are similar to Tony's but without the slack, vacant expression that Tony' habitually wears. The old man has a deep scowl that creases his aged skin.

"What you still doing here?" The old man spits. "_Pendejo_!" He hobbles towards the bar, where we are standing, and his eyes catch mine and narrow in a look of concern. "What happened to your face, _muchacha_?"

I clean my throat. "Bar fight."

He nods and shifts his attention back to Tony, who looks motionless, head lowered. "Is the product ready? _Los compradores vendrán pronto_." The buyers are coming soon. I guess they are getting ready to make a deal.

The old man hobbles away and I can see how rattled Tony is. This is it, this is the head of the operation. Tony reiterates how the backroom is off limits, then mutters something that I don't catch and lumbers out of the rear door.

I look at Tamara. "Who's was that?"

"I don't know, but they call him _El Pelon_. I just know that every time he shows back up, Tony gets his panties in a bunch. Maybe that's why he has been on edge lately." Tamara walks past me, pulls a broom out of the closet and begins sweeping the floors. "So…who is this _old friend_ of yours?"

I sigh. "He is a guy I'm seeing," I tell her honestly. "Tony saw us together a couple of night ago. Do you have any idea why he wants to meet him?"

"I don't know, but Tony is a possessive man. It's probably why you got that shiner there." She makes a face, then looks at me sympathetically. "I hope your friend can hold his own."

I scoff at that. "Yeah, it's Tony I'm worried about."

Tamara shakes her head and turns away, sweeping the floor. I grab a wet rag from under the counter, and begin to wipe down the bar.

I just hope that bringing Jay in isn't going to jeopardize the operation. I've put too much into this for him to come in and turn this into a pissing contest with Tony. Jay is the best cop I know, and I would follow him to the ends of the earth, but he can act on impulse without ever considering the consequences. We have too much to lose here, I just hope he can put his feelings aside and come at this with a clear head.

I pull out my phone and text Jay. _Tell Voight we need to meet._

x

Every time the club comes alive it seems like a giant is picking it up and dropping it on the ground over and over again. The club literally booms. Some people are dancing and gridding, and others are lounging around drinking, chatting, and laughing. I stand behind the bar trying to ignore the queasy feeling beginning to grow somewhere in the pit of my stomach.

I start cleaning the bar counter, trying to distract myself with something, anything. I go to the sink and reach for another rag, but Tamara's voice cuts in, startling me, "Quit wiping the counter. It's spotless." She pours me a shot of whiskey and says, "Drink it. It will help you calm your nerves." I down the drink and feel the burning of the whiskey all the way to my stomach. "Better? Now stop worrying. Your _friend_ will be here soon," she says.

I nod. "I know, that's what I'm worried about."

At around ten o'clock, Jay shows up. His face looks outwardly calm. He seems so casual and relaxed, despite the fact the he might possibly be walking into a trap. He looks really handsome, though, in a faded gray T-shirt, black jeans, and leather jacket. His hair looks slightly damp, like he just showered. I can't help but smile at the sight of him. It isn't so much how good he looks, but the fact that he makes no effort to look this attractive. When he sees me, he tucks his phone into his jacket pocket and walks over to the bar.

"Hey." He smiles. I can see his eyes travelling up and down my outfit, the tips of his ears going pink.

"Hi." I smile back, trying not to act all weird that my actual boyfriend is also my undercover boyfriend. In theory this notion should make things easier, but it doesn't.

"So, where's your boss?" He asks, looking around. His voice is expressionless and oddly measured.

"I don't know, actually," I say.

Tamara, who has been otherwise busy, suddenly pops up next to me like a jack-in-the-box. "Are you going to introduce me?"

I smile. "Tamara, this is my friend Ryan. Ryan this is Tamara. We work the bar together."

Jay offers Tamara one of his most charming smiles, "It is nice to meet you."

"Same," she says and I can see a slight flush on her cheek. Jay and his boyish charm. He can turn it on and off like a faucet. "Don't be a stranger, Ryan," she says, and with a flirty wave, Tamara leaves to attend to other customers.

Jay reaches across the counter – a silent plea that he wants my hand.

To hold.

To reassure me.

I smile and extend mine, placing my palm against his, and his fingers curl around my hand. I feel horribly vulnerable and yet completely safe. But then—I always feel this way with Jay.

"All good?" he asks. I know this is Jay asking Hailey, not Ryan asking Riley.

"Yeah," I say. "A little nervous if I'm being honest." I tilt my head. "Aren't you?"

"I've been looking forward to this day." He smiles and something flickers in his eyes.

"Please, just—"

"Riley," a gruff voice calls my cover name and I turn slowly in its direction as if in a daze. _Here we go. _I take my hand away, feeling oddly self-conscious as Tony approaches the bar, stopping a mere foot from Jay. Tony stands tall, but Jay stands taller. "Is this your _friend_..."

"Ryan," Jay says and extends his hand.

"Tony," he replies, shaking Jay's hand. "Riley's Boss."

There is a momentary silence, during which I can almost hear Jay's blood pressure rising. Tony, on the other end, looks blandly at Jay, with only a wary twitch of the eye to show he is taken aback by Jay's strong presence. Tony is balding and, what, five foot eight on a good day – he should feel slightly emasculated. They face one another for a few minutes. Time trickles by slowly, the earth having slowed its spin almost to a stop.

"Did Rylee serve you a drink?" Tony asks.

"Nah, I just got here." Jay replies.

Tony waves at me and I pour them two Whiskeys sour – Tony's drink of choice.

"Nice place you have here," Jay offers.

Tony takes a sip of his drink and looks at Jay with a half-smile on his face. "We do well for ourselves. Why don't we go out back so we can talk?"

Jay drowns the entire drink in a single gulp and places the empty cup on the counter with a loud _'thunk_.' "Sure."

Jay shoots me a cheeky grin as he follows Tony out back.

I wait anxiously for his return.

**Jay's POV**

They say a person should be careful for what they wish for, that when they get it, the wish might become a curse. I've been attempting to insert myself in this undercover operation from the very beginning, but have been unsuccessful thus far. But lo and behold, my wish is granted in a form of an invitation from Tony himself. The fact that this guy is psychotic is not lost on me. But now that I'm here, I'm thinking that maybe my involvement might complicate things for Hailey – that if things go sideways she will bear the brunt of Tony's anger.

I follow Tony down the polished wooden floors of a long hallway to his small office. He orders two bodyguards to pat me down and once they do, he waves me inside with, "Can never be too careful," as a way of explanation. The door closes behind us and his bodyguards stand at attention at the door. I can see that he is armed. And based on the fact that he is one of Chicago's most wanted, shows that he is not above puling a gun and using if he wants.

"I have to say, I was a little surprised you wanted to meet with me," I say, watching Tony take a seat behind his desk, motioning me to do the same. "I will stand," I say.

He stares at me with a tight grin on his stupid face. "I just wanted to meet Riley's _friend_." He stretches out in his armchair and lights a cigarette. Puffing on it gently, he offers me one. I shake my head. "What is it that you do, Ryan?"

"I work for a private security firm," I answer.

He sort of half nods his head. "What's your clientele like?"

"From dignitaries to gangbangers. We serve them all."

He chuckles dryly at that and takes a long drag from his cigarette. "How did you meet Riley?"

"High school," I say, keeping my answer short. This guy is volatile and I want to get under his skin.

"So, are you two dating?"

"Why would that matter?" I ask, making sure he can hear the taunt in my voice.

Irritation on his face has his lips in a thin line. "I'm like a father figure to these girls, and I feel an obligation to look out for them. They are so gullible I would hate for someone to take advantage; you know? There are some bad people out there."

I chuckle. "Look, we've met me. I'm no threat to Riley. I have a shift starting in an hour and I can't be late. I'm sure you can appreciate employees being on time."

"Of course, I don't mean to keep you." He takes a quick puff of smoke from his cigarette, blows the smoke upward, then smiles, "So, is this security gig legit?"

The dumbass is going to take my bait. I pull a business card from my wallet and hand it to him. He takes it and analyzes it carefully, blowing cigarette smoke while thinking.

"I can personally arrange a meet with my boss if you're interested."

He raises a skeptical eyebrow. "What's your cut for the introduction?"

"Ten percent."

Tony stands up and the two bodyguards open the door. He crushes out the cigarette and blows a last puff of smoke into the air. "I will see you around, Ryan. Have another drink on the house," he utters.

I nod and head back down the hallway. This went better than I anticipated. We are going to infiltrate this idiot's business and he and all his accomplices are going to die in prison. I stop by the bar and when Hailey sees me, her face goes slack with relief and the tense line on her shoulders ease.

"Did you guys have a good talk?" She asks, eager to know.

"We did. It was short, but very productive." I wink.

"You guys talked business?"

"He took my card." I say.

"Really?" Hailey asks, almost surprised that Tony took the bait.

"We might be in business soon," I say and a beautiful smile appears on Hailey's face, which is adorned with two twinkling blue eyes. I haven't seen her smile like that in a while. I wrap my hand around my belt to stifle the mic I'm wearing. "Come over tonight?"

She leans across the counter and looks at me, eyes softening with tenderness as an easy smile stretches across her lips. Whether intentionally or not, Hailey has been "closed" off to any kind of comfort I've tried to offer. And I get it. Being undercover requires you to sort of turn off a part of yourself, and Hailey apparently turned off the part of herself that is directly associated with me. But the fact that there's a real smile on her lips and an easy expression on her face tells me she might cave tonight.

"Maybe," she replies.

I will take that.

I drum my fingers on the counter and leave Hailey with a wink and a smile. The next few hours I spend back at the district with the team formulating a bullet proof plan for when Tony calls.

**Hailey's POV **

"Tamara, are you good closing? I was thinking of heading out a little early tonight." I am actually contemplating going by Jay's place. My heart, stupid thing, is doing back-flips at the prospect of seeing him.

"Bootie call!" she exclaims with a suggestive grin on her face. "You going to see Ryan? You know what? I'm not even mad. He's got like ten things going on. All of them good!"

"Yeah, he is not bad to look at." I tell her and feel a blush spread across my face. "The registers are closed. All you need to do is take out the trash and cash out."

"I got it," she says. "Go have fun, but I expect to hear all about it tomorrow."

I chuckle.

"Every last detail," I hear her say as I hotfoot out the door.

I reach Jay's apartment and he so surprised to see me at his doorstep. I can barely get any words out before he leans in and kisses me, his hand caressing my cheek, careful to avoid the bruises. He whisks me to his bed and it feels like he's kissing and touching me everywhere at once, and everything is hard breaths and low noises. He is being very gentle and overly cautious with me. His hands are gentle and they run down my chest, moving along with his lips to my bruised ribs, to the black-and-blue marks there. He moves slowly, taking care to caress every patch of discolored skin with his mouth. I imagine him taking the pain away with his kisses, and I close my eyes, drifting into his touch.

Slowly we find our rhythm and we make love with a tenderness we'd never shared before. He is able to tighten the coils in me, until I'm boneless. We come together and when the last few shudders fade, I melt into his arm, beyond relaxed. Endless days of frustration and anger disappear, and I'm so at peace right now, I can't move. I look at him and he is looking at me with an expression that makes my pulse race again. He props himself up on an elbow, bending his face to mine, his lips brushing me softly, starting with my eyelids, then down to my nose, then finally my lips. Then he pulls slightly back, tracing the bruises on my cheek with his fingers.

"You should sleep. It's been a long few days," he whispers.

I nod.

You know… I thought what I felt for Jay prior to today was love, but I was wrong. It's now, in this moment, that I feel completely overwhelmed by the love I feel for him.

"I love you, you know that?" I say.

He leans forward with a smile and kisses me softly on the lips. "I love you too," is his response.

He kisses me again, the same tender way as before and stays so close to me I can feel his breath on my face. He brushes back a few strands of my hair off my cheek and keeps his fingers there. This is how I fall asleep, damaged, bruised, broken, but completely peaceful and wholly in my own way.

x

The next morning, I wake up to Jay's phone vibrating on the night stand. I watch him groggily reach for it and frown at the message on the screen.

"Whatsgoignon?" I mumble, my mind still fuzzy with sleep.

"They found another girl," Jay says. "It's Tamara."

* * *

**Thank you for reading! Looks like 7x16 will be an Upstead episode. Finally! This has been the slowest burn everrrrr! Cheers, D. **


	14. Chapter 14

**Rated [M] Contains sensitive/mature content. **

**Jay's POV **

The crime scene is littered with cops when I arrive. Crime lab, the coroner's office, and the M.E. – they are all here. A clear, plastic tarp covers Tamara's body, but I can see her face right through it. I crouch down next to it, and lift the tarp, exposing her bent, limp form. I do a quick once over and see that she wasn't strangled, no blunt force trauma, no stab wounds, and she wasn't shot. I notice her skin looks clear, except for the area around the eyes, which is markedly red and irritated. There are also blue splotches on her upper left arm and neck. I also notice that there aren't any defensive wounds. Nail are perfect, no scratches or bruises. I will never get used to these crime scenes. It's always daunting, especially since I just saw her a few hours ago. No one deserves to go out like this.

"She didn't struggle." Voight approaches, verbalizing my earlier thoughts. "She knew her assailant."

"Yeah, I noticed it too. She could've been drugged, would explain the rash around her eyes. Looks like a reaction to something."

"We won't know until they do a full tox screen," Voight says. "Did you see her last night?"

"Yeah… she was at the club working the bar."

"Have you reached out to Hailey?" Voight asks, though he already knows the answer.

"Yeah. Hailey said when she left around one a.m. and that Tamara was still there. She mentioned something about Tony telling them to stay clear of the back room. She thought something might be going down."

Voight acknowledges the statement with a short nod, his mouth frowning with distaste. "Maybe Tamara saw something she wasn't supposed to see."

I nod. "Was she found in the dumpster like the other girls?" I ask.

Hank nods and tells me she was also raped –butchered from the waist down with a sharp object, cut repeatedly in a haphazard, frenzied manner. I look down and notice the blood trail between her thighs. "The attack took place somewhere else, though," Voight adds. "Her body was dragged and dumped here. The M.E. estimates death between two and three a.m."

"So right after she left the club." I deduce. I lower the tarp back down and stand up when I see Ruzek approaching.

"Got anything?" Voight asks.

"Not much. Scene's pretty clean, still looking for trace evidence, but no prints on the body. Some clothes were found in the dumpster, burnt," Ruzek states.

"Anything left to work with?" I ask.

"Forensics has what's left," he says. "We found her purse." He points to a spot near the entrance to the alley. "Nothing seems to have been taken. Credit cards and cash still inside."

"Who found her?" I ask.

"Homeless guy. He didn't see anything," Ruzek says.

The three of us walk towards the entrance of the alley, convening with Rojas and Atwater. "There are no pods around this area," Atwater chimes in. "We are trying to see if the construction site a block south got anything."

Voight pauses and releases a deep breath. "Look we know who's behind this. But we don't have enough to pin these murders on him. So walk the block and do knock-and-talks. Ask if anyone saw anything suspicious. Reach out to your CIs, see if anyone knows who runs these corners. Someone must have seen something. Burgess, Atwater - head to the club and see if you can talk to anyone. Tread lightly, we don't want to sound any alarms."

Everyone nods and leaves. I stay behind.

"Sarge, we should pull Hailey out. This is too dangerous and it's not worth it. Tony took my bait yesterday. We can infiltrate that way." Voight looks at me intently, with a vague frown of troubled thought on his face. "She might act like everything is just fine, but it's not. _You_ know it's not. I'm sure she's blaming herself for Tamara's death. We gotta pull her out."

I watch Voight's brow draw close together – more in concern than disapproval, I think. "Bring her in for a debrief. We can talk more at the district."

I nod and I drive back to my apartment, where I left Hailey this morning, but I don't find her there. I call her phone multiple times and each time it goes straight to voicemail. Either her phone is dead, or she switched it off – I'm betting on the latter. I check her UC apartment and she's not there either. Immediately a prickly sensation travels up my spine and around my neck. I call Platt and have her ping Hailey's phone, but that last known location is near my apartment.

I phone Atwater. "Hey man, Are you at to the club?"

"Nah, we just left. Tony wasn't there. Couldn't find anyone—"

"—Did you see Hailey?"

"Nah, we didn't see her."

"Thanks," I say and hang up.

A feeling of panic overtakes me, and I feel as if the center of my stomach is hollow. My palms begin to sweat, and my heart is racing. I know Hailey and she will go to great lengths to catch this son of a bitch. I just hope she hasn't go too far.

I pick up the phone and call Voight. "I can't find Hailey."

**Hailey's POV**

There are many traumatic events that took place in my childhood, and for most of my life I used to think that they were _no big deal. _My mom used to say, "Nothing's a big deal to you, is it?" That was how I felt. I buried it. But sometimes I could sense the underlying anger rising, fighting, screaming to come out. I could always feel it, but never explain it.

And that's how I feel right now.

I don't know whether I want to cry or scream. A part of me wishes I could turn back time and close the bar with Tamara. If I hadn't left her alone, she would still be here right now. I can tell that I'm at the end of my rope, dangling, and my sanity is breaking and scattering. I can feel myself slipping into a dark space, but I can't lose focus now; I have to keep it together because these girls need me. I have to bury all that anger inside and carry on like nothing is a big deal. I have to end this.

I turn my phone off and drive aimlessly for a while. I pay no attention to where I am headed. It doesn't matter. It's not like I have anywhere to be. All I can do is drive. Seconds turn into minutes as I fight to block thoughts which threaten to drown me. Gradually, the tension eases in my hand and shoulders, eventually spreading to my chest.

Able to take more than short, shallow breaths again, I fill my lungs with air and focus on what needs to be done. Despite driving aimlessly for what feels like an eternity, a brief glance out the window tells me exactly where I am. Less than two minutes later, I turn right onto one of the streets branching off from the main road, then follow it around a large bend, slowing down as the club comes into view.

Devoid of cars, the empty parking lot doesn't mean anything, especially when the real action happens in the back. I walk inside not really sure what I'm looking for, but as luck would have it, I run into Tony. With a look of surprise on his face, he asks, "What are you doing here so early?" His voice is heavy with something other than curiosity. I can tell by the way he is fidgeting that he is irked that I came unannounced.

I gathered myself and try to sound collected and calm when I answer. "I forgot my wallet behind the bar, I was just stopping by to grab it," I say nonchalantly. "I need money for groceries."

He grabs my arm suddenly, and the entire tone of his voice hardens. "What are you really doing here, huh?" I try to pull my arm away, but his grip tightens like a vice. "I don't much care for nosy employees."

Close up I can see his wild eyes are red and glassy. He is most definitely tripping right now. I have to be careful and keep my guard up. I deflect by saying, "What are you talking about, Tony? I just came by to grab my wallet. Didn't think I needed to call ahead."

"Go get it then." His voice is lower, but not less suspicious.

"Yeah. If you let go of my arm." He loosens his grip, and I walk behind the bar and pull out a wallet I had stashed there for instances like these. I lift it up and show it to him, "See?"

He moves closer to me, his arms sliding around my waist. He reeks of body odor, whiskey, and stale cigarette smoke. His demeanor changes, and the menacing glint in his eyes is gone. I look at him and he's staring at me with sinister kind of smile on his face.

"Have you thought about my offer?"

"What offer?" I ask.

He grins a cocky sideways smile. "You can make more money tricking than you do at the bar," he says. "With your looks, you'll be driving a BMW in a month, and not that beat up Corolla you call a car."

I plaster a smile on my face. "I'm good, thanks." There is a voice inside me getting louder, telling me I need to get out of here. "Maybe another time."

I turn to make my way back to the exit, but he grabs my wrist once more, hard enough to bruise. This is the true pimp demeanor—imposing, superior, controlling. "Where are you going? Don't just walk away like that – I'm giving you a chance of a lifetime."

"I'm good, really. I like working the bar. Tamara and I work well together." At the mention of Tamara's name, his eyes narrow, almost angry. This is shaky ground, and I know it. "We make a good team."

A faint smile slowly trickles at the corner of his crooked mouth. "You know what? You guys do make a good team. Come on back, I want to show you something." Tony's trying to sound calm, but I can hear the edge in his voice. The alarms go off in my head.

"I thought we weren't supposed to go back there," I say, pointing toward the back and forcing a big, fake smile on my face. "Plus, I need to get going. I have to get groceries."

Tony looks at me with cold fire in his eyes, smiling. "C'mon on back," he repeats. I take a step back, but he grabs my arm again and begins dragging me down the long hallway to his office. I fight, bucking and twisting in Tony's hold. But it does nothing. He is much stronger than he looks. My heart jackhammers inside my chest. Without warning, he smacks me across the face – and then again. "We've got a problem," he says, yanking me along, "and we're going to solve it. C'mere." He shoves me against the wall and his rough hand goes up my top.

"Don't touch me!" I scream.

He pushes his lips onto mine, forcing my mouth open. He tastes of alcohol, fiery and bitter – bile rises hot in my throat. I angrily bite his lip, causing it to bleed.

"You worthless bitch!" He growls and backhands me, right beneath my eye. Pain explodes in my cheekbone.

Anger makes my head spin. "If you touch me again, I'll kill you," erupts from my mouth. I lunge at him, and give him all I got – call it adrenaline, fear, whatever, but If I am going down, I'm going down fighting. With a loud curse, he falls backwards, still gripping me. His back takes the brunt of the fall. I hardly feel the impact as he grunts and immediately rolls over, pinning me to the hard wooden floor. Disregarding his heavy weight on top of me, I continue fighting, struggling with all my strength. The cold wood presses into my face, but the discomfort barely registers. I try to kick back and scratch him, to make him feel even a tiny fraction of the pain consuming me inside. My muscles scream with strain, but I don't stop. He grabs my hair, pulling me to him, I try to fight him off, but he gets a hold around my neck and starts chocking me. Tears flood my eyes and somewhere in the struggle I lose consciousness. When I come to again, I'm being restrained by two of his henchmen.

"Put her with the others. I will deal with her later," he says, wiping blood off his lip.

They blindfold me and put me in a car. We drive for about fifteen minutes before they lead me down what I believe is a flight of stairs. I try to push them off and the next thing I feel is a punch to my gut. I slam into the stairs' railing, my neck snapping back and hitting my head on the hard composite. The force of the blow knocks me down, and my butt hits two steps before stopping.

"Did you really think you were going to get away, _puta_?" I hear an unfamiliar voice say.

I'm so stunned that he easily picks me up, wraps his arms around mime, pinning them down while dragging me down the rest of the stairs.

My head pounds and I feel like I'm going to vomit. Then, they force me to sit down, tie me up, and take the blindfold. We are in a basement, and it smells like mildew and bleach. The first thing I see are the faces of about five girls staring back at me. They look tired and dirty and terrified. Skinny wrists stick out of the zip ties.

Wordlessly, the man in front of me – burly, unshaven with a face all pocked and marked, grabs my shoulder and thrust into my stomach. I open my mouth to yell, but all that come out is a silent gurgle. I collapse sideways to the ground.

The last thing I see; he is injecting something into my arm. Then everything fades into a merciful blackness.

x

I hear a voice thundering in my ear. The words pierce my brain, but I can't make them out. God, my head hurts. Nausea swirls in my stomach.

Someone moans.

Is it me?

"… Wake up, Riley." _His_ voice slithers over me, through me. A nightmare.

Why can't I think? Move?

Then everything falls into place and I remember. The club. The drive. The basement.

I try to sit up, my eyes flying open and pain radiating through my head. The ties bite into my wrists, my legs are immobile. The room is spinning and spinning. My chest tightening. I focus on the face above me and Tony is leaning over me, griming down at my struggles. That son of a bitch. I jerk my wrists and the ties don't slacken. Am I trying hard enough? My arms feel heavy.

I look around. "The g-girls? Wha-what'd you do to them?" I slur. It's difficult to speak. It feels like my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth and my mouth is filled with cotton balls. "Where are they?"

"The girls already had their turn."

He rips my shirt and fists his hand in my hair forcing me up on my knees. I try to fight, but I feel like I'm underwater – my movements slow and uncoordinated.

"What'd you gimme?" I ask and writhe in his brutal hold, his knees forcing my legs apart. I feel my pants come off.

"Something to make you relax. You know Riley, I made you an offer, but you wouldn't have it. You had to chose the hard way."

"You're a sss-ck, twisted b-bastard! A low-life son of a b-bitch."

He slaps me in the face without holding back. I can feel the imprint his fingers make on my cheek. My body is numb and too weak to fight him off. I have no energy. My motions are listless, and my limbs feel like jelly. I can't stop what I know it is about to happen.

"I'm going to k-kill you! I'm going to fucking kill you!" I keep screaming until my throat is raw and the spit burns the inside of my mouth.

He laughs, his breath hot in my ear. "I'm going to enjoy this. You should too."

I close my eyes and force my mind to detach from my body. The barrage of gutturally uttered words fade and morph to a drone. I hear nothing. I feel nothing. I fear nothing. With no sensory input, I fell magically suspended in midair – like I'm floating above, looking down on myself. It's weird, but I find myself taking heart in the fact that I know Jay (and the team) is looking for me. He might be out there right now. Jay must be so worried. I can imagine him pacing, jaw clenched, running his hand through his hair, making the ends stand up in ridiculous little spikes. The last thing I wanted was to hurt him.

I'm grateful I got to experience his love, even if only for a short time. I'm grateful for his tight hugs, slow kisses, and his sweet nothings whispered on my pillow lolling me to sleep. When I'm with him I know true bliss. Jay helped me understand life better. I hope he finds someone wonderful who loves him like I love him. He deserves everything. Jay is the best guy.

He is _my_ guy.

And I'm his.

The tears come slowly and do their thing; it wouldn't be helpful to try and stop them. I can't help but wonder if I'm crying in anger, in pain, or because I know this is it – I will die and it will all be over. There is only blackness now, blackness all around me, and I feel myself slipping away. I welcome it. My minds slow; thoughts barely with me. This is it, I think. _No big deal. _

So, I let go.

**Jay's POV **

It's been over eight hours and Hailey hasn't come up for air. She hasn't reached out to anyone and her phone is still off. The team is now focused solely on finding her. There's no way in hell she went off books, may be at first, but not for this long. I want to stay positive, but a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach says otherwise. I can't stop pacing, and the feeling that nothing's happening rankles my brain. I'm teetering on the edge of a nervous breakdown. If something happens to her, I'll never forgive myself.

Never.

Then Ruzek runs into the pen. "We go it," he says waving a piece of paper in his hand, "Hailey's car was found torched in Humboldt park and her phone was turned on. Guys, we got a location."

"Gear up everyone, let's go!" Voight orders. "Pack heavy."

My heart bangs against my rib cage, and hope fills my chest.

_Hold on, babe, we're coming._

* * *

**Thank you for reading. This was the hardest chapter I've ever written, and I'm sure harder to read. I appreciate your input and am writing the next chapter as fast as I can. Cheers. **


	15. Chapter 15

**Hailey's POV **

"HAILEY!"

Light flashes and people shout.

I think I hear Jay's voice, but maybe I'm dreaming.

My eyes flutter open, but everything remains unfocused. A piercing pain explodes near my temple, and I moan and try to lift my hand. But I can't move my arms. Panic shoots through me I let my head fall back and my eyes close again. Nausea rolls over me, sending me twisting and tumbling through the darkness in my head. Sounds are muffled and when I swallow, my throat is dry as bone. It hurts to think, breathe.

I feel a hand touch me. Instinctively, I flinch and jerk backwards. _Don't touch me!_ I say, but my words are jumbled, making sense only to me. I groan in anguish as the latest events replay in my head. The grief and the anger and the shame is intense.

"Hailey, it's me. It's Jay."

I hear Jay's voice again, strained, almost hoarse. I feel warmth on my cheek. I open my eyes and concentrate on bringing the image before me into focus. "Give her a minute. Everybody just… take a step back. Hailey…?" His voice fills the air once again. I can hear pain behind it now. My eyes waver, opening and closing until Jay's face slowly comes into focus, automatically putting my heart at ease. He takes my hand in his, warm and firm, and very slowly he brings it to his face. "Look, it's me. It's me, babe." He holds my palm there, gazing at me, and after everything that's happened, it's the most intimate thing in the world. I'm trying to be strong, but this is too much, even for me.

"I've got you," he says and tears well up in my eyes.

Then I'm being lifted, then, jerked forward and Jay's familiar scent is right there, invading me. Heat from his body is flowing out of him and I can feel his heart beating inside his chest. I'm aware that we're moving, and his arms are wrapped tightly around me, comforting me in the only way he can, and I vaguely wonder if he knows what happened.

My eyes close and when they open again, I'm on a stretcher and a man in uniform is peering over me. He shines a light into my eyes, then shouts something to a person behind me. Doors slam shut and a siren wails as we begin to move. Someone takes my hand, and I look over and see Jay's worried eyes, red and puffy. I try to talk, but an involuntary sob escapes from my mouth and my breath hitches. Tears well up in my eyes again and roll down the side of my face and into my hair.

Jay leans forward. "You're going to be okay," he says. "I'm here, Hailey. It's going to be alright."

Something in his voice breaks me. I stare at the ceiling of the ambulance, but don't really see it. I close my eyes and don't bother opening them again because everything is blurred and I don't need to see, I can feel. I can feel the pain and the shame. I can feel my body shaking and my insides twisting.

When we get to the hospital, the gurney bumps and jerks, then glides as they roll me inside. Jay runs beside me, never letting go of my hand. I keep my eyes on his face as the nurses and doctors crowd me, poking and prodding. I flinch every time. There's a rush of activity in the room for a while, but I don't listen to anything they're saying. I concentrate on the sound of Jay's voice and the feel of his strong hand in mine. Slowly, the piecing pains turn to a dull throbbing. Jay strokes my hair and gradually, mercifully, the world goes black.

**Jay's POV**

I've never felt anger like this. I've never felt this anxious. I've never felt this exhausted. It's like I'm back in Afghanistan, collecting body parts of fellow soldiers that were blown up by another IED. I was too late to help them. I was too late to help Hailey. Tears burn my face like acid. My head spins as I try to make sense of it all. There is no sense. Everything is falling apart.

In minutes everyone arrives, and the waiting room turns into a sea of blue uniforms.

"How is she? Any news?" Voight asks.

"No, nothing yet. They took her inside. She was wavering in consciousness the whole time. _They_ probably pumped her with God knows what." I answer. "Find anything else at the house?"

"Five other girls, two of them ODed on route."

"Any signs of Tony?" I grit through my teeth. Speaking his name leaves a foul taste in my mouth.

Voight shakes his head. "They knew we were coming. Whoever was there left in a hurry. Crime lab is going through the house with a toothcomb. We'll have enough to bury them."

"Yeah, we are burying them alright," I say, my hands fisting at my side. _At the bottom of the river. _

Voight gives me a barely perceptible nod of his head. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

It feels as though we are waiting forever, but it's only been a couple of hours now. Despite knowing Hailey's life is not in imminent danger, I'm still terrified something will go wrong. But soon enough, Natalie comes through the double doors and we get up to meet her.

"H-How is she?" I ask.

"She's not in any danger. We treated her superficial wounds and she's asleep now. She had quiet the drugs cocktail in her system. Clonazepam, GBH, ketamine, MDMA… "

"Date rape drugs," Voight interjects and my stomach churns.

Natalie nods. "We will continue to monitor her closely until her bloodwork clears."

"Nat," I pull her aside. Voight follows. "Was she…" My words falter – they feel like rocks in my mouth, dry and clunky. But I need to know. I clear my throat. "Was she raped?" I ask, but instantly regret it when Natalie's face falls.

She nods silently, face pinched and sad. "We did a rape kit. The evidence is consistent with rape – vaginal tearing, badly bruised thighs… If she engaged in any form of intercourse, I would certainly say that she was not a willing participant."

I instantly feel hot and anger boils up inside me. I clench my fists and find myself wishing I could punch something. The waiting room becomes too small and the air too thin. Deep down I knew it, but hearing the words feels like getting punched in the gut. The tears start to come, but I force them back, not allowing my voice to break. "C-Can I see her?"

"As soon as we move her to the patient floor I will come get you."

I nod, biting my lip so hard I taste blood.

Natalie puts a comforting hand on my shoulder, and then leaves. I look at Voight and shake my head.

"Jay…"

"You should've pulled her out. I told you it was too dangerous. This shouldn't have happened…" My voice is coming in short gasps; I don't think I can hold back. "This is on you," I yell. "This is on you!"

Anger and frustration rage through my body, exploding in my chest and clouding my vision. Then something in me snaps. A strangled cry escapes me and I punch the nearest wall with all my might. My fist burns and the wall takes the brunt of my feelings as I pound my fist on it, beating the plaster until I hear an audible crunch of bones in my hand.

I feel arms lock around me. I'm being pulled back. "Jay, hey, calm down...calm down…We're gonna get him. He's going to pay for what he did." Voight continues to growl in my ear, but I can no longer hear him.

Then Will is pulling me against him and hot tears are pouring down my face. He pushes me out of the waiting room and into an examination room in the ED. I press my hands to my face, my tears soaking my palms. My entire body is shaking, I'm so angry, so devastated, so…. There are so many emotions coursing through me and I can't sort them all out. I'm at my most extreme low and my mind can't take it. I look up and see Dr. Choy and a security guard standing by the door.

"It's okay, I got him," Will says. "I got him."

I look down at my fist and my knuckles are split open and bleeding. Pain burns my right hand.

"Here, let me take a look at it." Will says, lifting my hand to examine it.

"I'll be fine. Just wrap it and it will be fine," I say and try to pull my hand away. Of course, the injured bone protests and I bite my lip in pain.

"You probably fractured a bone, Jay. Sit down, and let me check it out. I'm probably going to have to stich it up too."

Reluctantly I take a seat on the bed and Will proceeds to care for my hand. We sit in silence for a while, until Will says, "I, um, read Hailey's chart. I'm sorry, Jay."

I nod and swallow hard. My chest gets tight so I take a deep breath. I try to push it all away, but the tears well up in my eyes again. I curse and wipe them away with my sleeve. "It was my fault. I should've kept a better eye on her. Shouldn't have left her alone."

"Jay, I'm sure—"

"I'm her partner." I swallow and look at him. "I should've protected her."

Will sighs. "You know, I heard Hailey saying those exact same words when you were in here."

I shake my head. "This is different."

"Look, Hailey is alive. Two of the girls that were brought in weren't as lucky." Will looks down at my hand and ties the last stitch. "What happened is just awful and it will take time, but she will heal. And you will too. Just be there for her, the same way she was there for you." Will wraps my hand and puts a brace on it. "Keep the brace on for at least a week, okay?"

Moments later, Natalie pokes her head inside the examination room and knocks on the glass door. "Hailey is on the patient floor, room 302."

I nod.

"C'mon," Will says. "I will walk you up."

x

Hailey is lying on the bed and my heart sinks to my knees. Her blond hair is slicked back towards the top of her head and the extent of her injuries are plainly visible now. They wiped the caked blood from her face and the black and blue rings around both her eyes are prominent and raw. The blood that was caked all over her chin earlier is from her lip – it's split open. Though her body is covered, I know what it looks like beneath the sheets. I can't forget what I saw when found her. I can't forget the tattered clothes, the bruises and cuts on her arms and legs, the blood everywhere, and the look on her face. She was terrified, shaking, confused, recoiling at my touch.

I feel the tears running silently down my cheeks, while inside a burning rage once again shakes my body. I can't accept that she was so badly mauled by such an inhuman scum. Gently I kiss her forehead, take her hand in mine and wait for her to wake up.

**Hailey's POV**

Rolling my head, I get light headed as if I was drinking all night. A splitting pain shoots across my skull and if I didn't' know better, I'd say there is someone hammering away at my temples. A throbbing sensation shoots up my chest when I try to breathe causing me to scrunch my face in response. Slipping my tongue out of my mouth, I run it along my dry, cracked lips sparking a stinging sensation.

I make every effort to push the haze from my head, but my mind reels with confusion and I cannot shake this heavy fatigue I feel. I slowly wiggle a couple fingers on my left hand and feel soft folds of fabric move beneath my hand. I'm on a bed.

"Hailey," Jay's voice echoes.

Drip…drip…drip…

My ears zoon into the subtle sounds of liquid dropping into more liquid along with faint humming and beeping in the distance. My neck feels stiff and when I try to lift my head, I can't. I open my mouth to cry out, yell, anything but no words come out, except for, "Hhhh…"

"Hey, Hailey. Hailey, you are safe. You're in a hospital. I'm here."

I hear Jay's voice again, gentle and warm, as I slowly find the edge of consciousness. I try to open my eyes but my lids just flutter against my cheeks, they feel so heavy; like they are weighted down. I try again, but the world is blurry and out of focus. Nothing looks familiar until Jay leans down. His eyes, soft and glazed, come into focus, and I see the love I'd always seen shinning back at me.

"Hey, you." Jay dawns a smile, so sweet, so tender, so all-embracing that a smile escapes my lips. "How do you feel; do you need a nurse?" He asks, as he reaches for a call button.

"No, Wah…" I gulp down nothing in particular, but work to assemble any amount of moisture so that I can form the word, "Water?"

"Here."

Something solid and pointy comes to rest at the corner of my lips – a straw. I close my mouth around it, and muster up enough strength to draw the contents up. The effort nearly drains what little energy I have in my body. My throat screams out in relief and my stomach rebels with a roar.

"Take it easy. Don't drink it too fast," Jay cautions.

Shifting my gaze up, I stare up at the ceiling and breathe in deeply, hoping to steer off blasts of pain in my head. Then suddenly, a loud buzz behind me has my heart airborne. Then a tightening over my bicep clamps down and a hissing sound rises into the air. The vice on my arm gets tighter and tighter until I know every vein in my arm has to be bulging and ready to explode. I jerk frantically to get way from whatever is grabbing at my arm as flashes of everything that happened comes crashing back into my mind.

"Get off! Get off!" I scream. The hold is getting tighter and I feel like I'm being dragged. The smell of mildew and bleach fill my nose. I become aware of the burning sensation between my legs. "Let me go! Get off!"

"Hey, hey…. Hailey, it's okay…Hailey, no one is touching you. It's the pressure cuff on your arm. Hailey, Hailey..."

Jay's words hardly register. All I can think is _It's happening again_. My heart is pounding erratically. My breathing seems obscenely loud in this room. I need to get away!

"Hailey…just… Look at me…"

I hear the pain and urgency in Jay's voice and I take a pause.

"Babe, look at me…It's the pressure cuff…"

I turn to the sound of his voice and he is standing next to the bed with his hands up. His breathing sounds labored too and there's a loud beeping that rings out over and over and over. Then, I feel the grip on my arm release.

"Hailey… you are safe. There's no one here. It's just us," Jay's shaky words sets my strangled heart at ease somewhat and I quickly realize it is my breathing that is in distress.

"What's going on?"

A movement in my peripheral vision has me looking past Jay's head to a female figure coming towards me. It's Dr. Manning.

"The grip of the pressure cuff…" Jay says as a way of explanation and the two of them trade glances. The continual beeping of a machine behind me is making me want to scream.

"Hailey, I'm going to check your pulse, if that's okay?"

I nod.

Natalie's fingertips press down on my wrist and another soft hand slides over my temple. "Your heart just shot up. You also look like you ripped the IV line off your arm. How are you feeling?"

The beeping keeps going off, making me grit my teeth. "C-can you take this off?" I ask, pointing at the pressure cuff. "The beeping too?"

Natalie nods, her thin lips curve into a kind smile and her eyes fill with empathy. Slowly the cuff is released from my arms and the beeping ceases. The room is quiet for a moment and I focus on breathing, taking air into my lungs. I do this a few times and it settles my mind, eases my nerves.

"How long…" My voice garbles as I glance over Jay, hoping for another drink. The straw immediately finds my mouth and I guzzle down more, needing something wet.

"Careful. We don't want it coming back up," Natalie warns.

I shudder at the idea of retching in my present condition. Jay pulls the straw away from my mouth and I snap my attention back up. "How long has it been?" I barely get it out.

Natalie's face brightens with a sympathetic smile. "It's been about thirty-six hours. You were heavily sedated. But everything is looking good."

"Okay," I rasp out, shocked that I have been out for that long.

"I need to step out for a second, but I will be back to check over a few things. Are you comfortable or are you feeling a lot of aches and pains?"

I think about the question for a moment and focus on my body. My mind is still foggy, and my head feels as though someone smashed a two-by-four over it. Breathing in large breaths causes slivers of pain to vibrate through my ribcage. It hurts when I blink my eyes and my jaw is sore. Then there's the burning between my legs.

"My…" I clear my throat, "My head is throbbing, and breathing hurts right now."

"I will get you something to help with the pain. In the meantime, try to get some rest."

Natalie messes with a few more things beside the bed, out of the line of sight, and replaces the IV line before leaving the room. I take a couple more sips of water, thanks to Jay, before feeling confident enough to _really_ look at him. He looks just as out of it as I feel. I notice his right hand is bandaged and in a brace.

"What happened to your hand?" I ask, in a scratchy voice.

"I punched a wall. Repeatedly," he says casually. But there's nothing casual about his answer. Nothing at all.

"Not your best idea," I say.

"It was better than the alternative." Jay gives me a half smile and a shrug. He looks at me through exhausted, bloodshot eyes and I become aware of just how gutted he looks.

"Have you been here this whole time?"

He nods. "I wanted to make sure I was here when you woke up."

I nod. I know the feeling. I thought the same thing when the roles here were reversed. Though that feels like lifetime ago. Jay slowly reaches out, putting his good hand on the bed, palm up, a silent request for mine. Obliging him, I place my hand in his and his fingers wrap around mine. He gently pulls it to his lips and kisses it. I smile and our eyes meet. The silence between us is heavy and still, stifling. Different. I hate it. A tear runs down my cheek and I swipe at it quickly.

After a moment, he squeezes my hand and gently asks, "Do you remember what happened?"

I nod. Though the memories are broken, they are stuck. In my head. This kaleidoscope of images that just keeps turning and turning. "Things are fuzzy around the edges, but clear enough," I tell him.

"It was him, right? _He_ did this to you."

I nod. "It was like I was floating outside my body. Pretty sure I watched myself die."

"You didn't."

"I'm not so sure."

Jay is silent for a moment. I can feel the pent up anger stirring within him as if I am the person generating it.

"Hailey, I…" His voice falters. He lowers his head for a moment, and when he lifts it back up, his eyes are filled with tears. He clamps his eyes shut and ducks his head again, ashamed for his lack of control. "I'm sorry, Hailey. I'm so sorry." Jay chokes on a mixture of grief and rage. "I should have been there. I should've protected you. I-I…"

"I-I made an off-the-book move. This is on me. Not you."

"No…. no…no…" He shakes his head. The grasp on my hand tightens. He's vulnerable, I'm vulnerable. It's not a good combination. "I-I'm your partner."

After another silent moment between us, I ask the question that is gnawing at me. "Did you get him?"

Jay shakes his head. "When we got to the house, they'd already left. We set a perimeter, but…" He lets the sentence go unfinished. "Forensics found enough for search warrants and the team is on it. We'll catch him. You just focus on getting better, kay?"

I nod, feeling anger boil up from the pit of my stomach, but it wanes when I feel Jay's thumb tracing softly over the back of my hand. Wordlessly he lets go of my hand, takes a seat on the edge of the bed, and opens his arms. I snuggle into him, and he holds me loosely, so I have plenty of room to breathe. "I'm sorry," he whispers against my hair. The words are pulled from him, a raw agony. After a moment, he lets go completely so that I can decide when the hug will end. I let go, too. The whole process is awkward, but safe. This is his way letting me take control again, letting me dictate how much of my personal space he can occupy and it breaks my heart.

"Maybe you should go. Get some rest." I tell him. "I know how you hate hospitals."

Jay smiles, understanding the subtlety of my request. _I need to be alone._

"Yeah. It will be good to eat something other than cafeteria food."

"Maybe we can do breakfast in the morning?" I ask.

He smiles. "Of course. I will see you tomorrow."

He leans down and kisses my forehead. I try not to flinch. "Yeah, see you tomorrow."

Jay leaves and I ask a nurse if I can take a shower.

Once in the stall, I rub my skin raw with the hottest water I can stand, almost to the point of scalding myself. I want _him_ off me. I feel that I can't get clean enough; that there is not enough soap in the world to get me clean again. Then the tears come. They come in big, fat, rolling drops. My knees crumple and my back slides down the wall of the shower until my butt land on the tiles. Ashamed and wracked with guilt, I let my bruised body sag to the side as the sobs shake my chest, and I gasp for air.

I sit beneath the shower until it runs cold. Once again, bits and pieces of my fragmented memory invades my mind, haunting me and I wait for the wave of panic to follow, but this time, it doesn't.

The shock has passed.

I feel numb now.

* * *

T**hank you for reading! Tried to get this chapter out as fast as my fingers could type. I'm looking forward to Wednesday's episode – seems like we'll got some Upstead. Finally! Cheers! **


	16. Chapter 16

**Jay's POV **

Hailey will be discharged from the hospital today.

I've been trying to give her space and just be there for her, but everything I do seems like it's the wrong thing. It's like everything I do is simultaneously too much and not enough. If I'm there, I feel like she wants me to leave, but when I leave she looks disappointed. Nothing I do seems to help, and I get it, Hailey's been through something so horrific I can't imagine what's going through her head. Nobody should have to go through that. But I can't just sit back and watch her crumble. Every day I feel like I'm losing a little bit more of her. Like she's slipping away, bit by bit, and with each piece some of me goes with her. But I'm optimistic that today will be a better day. Maybe returning home will be good for her. A place that is familiar and safe. Hospitals are just the worse.

With renewed energy, I get up, shower, and head to the hospital. On my way to Hailey's room I run into Natalie.

"Hey Nat, how is she?"

"Physically? She's good. Emotionally? She's got some ways to go. She's exhibiting normal victim behaviors. But I had Dr. Charles reach out to her."

"Anything I should keep an eye out for?"

She pauses, considering. She takes a deep breath and says, "Make sure she eats, sleeps, keeps a routine, attends support meetings..."

I nod. "Don't think eating will be a problem. Hailey has a big appetite. She can knock back a few Gyros at a time."

Natalie smiles. "It's just very common for rape victims to _lose_ their appetite. It's just a form of control."

"Control?"

"It's something they can have power over. It doesn't make sense, but it is very common. Just keep an eye out. Again, this might not be a problem for Hailey."

I nod. "Thanks, Nat." Natalie turns to leave, but I stop her. "Hey, um, anything else I should know. Look I just want to help." Natalie presses her lips together in a sympathetic smile. "I feel like everything I do is the wrong thing. I know she's going through a lot and I don't want to make this process harder. I just want to help her…that's all."

Natalie put her hand on my shoulder, flashing me an empathetic smile. "Jay, just be there for her. Let her know that what happened doesn't change how you feel about her—"

"It doesn't," I state.

Natalie offers me a kind smile again. "There's a lot that has changed for her, but if you remain the one constant thing in her life is a start."

"What if she doesn't want me there?" I ask. For her sake, I would find the strength to let her go, if that's what she really wanted.

Natalie pauses. "She will be hesitant to accept any sort of mercy right now, specially from you. She blames herself – like all victims do. She might push you away, but that's just her coping with the guilt."

I swallow a lump of emotions. "Guilt? It wasn't her fault. Nothing that happened was her fault!"

"I know that. But she might need a little more convincing. Therapy will help with that. On her discharge paper I put pamphlets of support groups. I'm sure the CPD also has them too."

"Yeah," I nod. "I won't keep you anymore. Thanks, Nat."

I walk to Hailey's hospital room and knock, the door slides open with a creek. I peek my head inside, "Hailey?" I say and she starts. Tears are streaming down her face, as if she isn't aware she's even crying. She quickly she wipes the tears and I pretend not to notice it. "You ready to get out of here? I stopped by your place and got you clean clothes. Actually, Rojas packed you the bag. I'm just the delivery man." I lift the bag so she can see it.

"Thank you."

I give her the bag and she pushes the blankets back and eases herself off the bed. The hospital gown rides up, exposing the angry bruises purpling her skin on her thighs. They look like hand prints. I bite down and take a deep breath, shaking off the thought.

She stands by the bed for a moment, looking around unsure. I try to read her expression but it's blank; no hint of a smile or crease of a frown. "Want me to close the door so you can change?" I offer.

"No," she says a bit too quickly. A terrified look clouds her face. "I'm just…" She takes a breath, and I'm not sure if she's about to cry. "I'll just go into the bathroom." She glances up at me and her expression is almost apologetic when she closes the bathroom door behind her.

I know Hailey wanting to shield herself from me is just a coping mechanism. Despite the fact that I know every inch of her body – every beauty spot, every angle, plane, and curve better than I know my own. The freckle on her thigh, I've kissed it, the tiny white scar on her ribs, I've kissed it too. There isn't a part of her that I haven't touched, stroked, tasted. I know I can't take this personally, but it stings.

I look around the empty hospital room and see all the take-out containers I've been bringing– breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I peek under them and notice most are untouched. _Shit. _

"Hey Jay," Hailey calls, timidly peeking her head out of the bathroom door. I snap my attention to her. "Can you help me untie this hospital gown?"

"Of course."

I walk the short distance to the bathroom and she gradually opens the door all the way. She turns her back to me and wraps her arms around her chest, holding herself tight. I push her hair aside and goosebumps immediately dots her skin. I can feel all her muscles tightening under my touch. I pretend as if this doesn't break my heart. I quickly undo the tie and take a step back. The fabric falls slightly from her shoulders and it gaps open enough for me to see other bruises chasing one another down her back.

I clear my throat. "Do you need help—"

"No I've got It," she says and closes the door quickly behind herself.

A knot twists in my abdomen. I take a deep breath and straighten my spine, doing my best to shove my disappointment to the back of my mind. Never in my life had I wanted so badly to pull her in my arms, and hug her and kiss her and tell her everything is going to be okay, even if I don't know that to be true. I just want to stay with her, want to hold her close and never let her out of my sight. Ever.

Moments later, Hailey emerges from the bathroom and I smile to hide my anguish. She's all dressed and with a half-smile of her own on her face. "Feels good to take that hospital gown off."

"Yeah, I know the feeling. You ready to go?"

"Yeah. I already signed the discharge papers. Can't wait to sleep in my own bed."

"Yeah," I agree. "Oh it's not super urgent, but Voight wanted you to give a statement, if you're up for it we can—"

"Oh, I already did. Burgess came the other day and I told her what I remembered."

"Oh, good." I say, trying not to feel hurt by the fact that she didn't talk to me. I shake the feeling off and offer her my hand. She takes it and we walk slowly down the hall. I notice her gait is stiff and slow so when we reach the exit I say, "Want to wait here while I go pull the car around?" She looks nervously at me, then looks round the entrance to the hospital, like she's surveying a scene. "It's fine if you want to come. I just thought—"

"I'll come," she says. "It's a nice day. It will be nice to stretch my legs."

She looks up at me and smiles. I almost believe that's the real reason she's doesn't want to wait by the entrance door. I really want to believe everything she says, but I'm not that naïve. I wish she could just tell me she doesn't want to be alone, or that all the commotion at the entrance is too much for her to take. I just want her to know that her fears are not irrational and that I will not think any less of her for not wanting to linger alone at the entrance of a busy hospital.

We drive to her apartment in silence, which I know she is grateful for. She keeps her head turned and stares out the window the whole time, her eyes unfocused and distant. When I can't take the silence anymore, I ask, "Are you hungry?" When she doesn't answer I reach for her hand, and just the brush of my fingers has her jerking back. Her eyes flash to mine and in them I see panic. "Hey…"

She swallows. "Sorry." This time, she reaches out and gently settles her fingers on the back of my hand. I take my eyes off the road for a second and lace my fingers through hers.

"Are you hungry?"

"Oh, um… not really."

"Well, it's almost lunchtime. You have to eat." I tell her. "We can grab something to go and when you feel up for it you can eat. Or we can just stop by the market and pick up a few things to make." She's not listening anymore. It's like someone pressed the pause button and she shut down for a minute staring off into space. "Hailey?" I tug at her hand.

She starts. "Yeah?"

"What do you want to eat?" I say, smiling to soften the question.

**Hailey's POV **

Everything is broken.

Just broken.

I can't find my ground. Don't know which way to turn. Nothing sounds right. Nothing smells right. Nothing is the way it is supposed to be. Drowning. I'm drowning and I have no idea how to get my head above water. If I can do something, anything, maybe then I can…breathe.

Jay is sitting so close to me in this car - I can smell his scent, it's everywhere. He smells right. He feels right. Our eyes meet and I see the questions in his eyes, the fear. The fury. And the hurt.

I hurt him. I keep hurting him. I'm not doing it on purpose, but it keeps happening. Again, he lifts his brow. "What do you want to eat?"

Nothing. Nothing. I'm not hungry.

Then again, I know him well enough to know there is no way in hell he'd let this go. He's brought food for me for the last two days, tried to get me to eat in the hospital. I wasn't hungry then. I'm not hungry now.

Empty. Everything is empty. Everything hurts. My wrists. My stomach, all my muscles hurt. Four days. It's been four days, I think, but maybe longer. The time is fuzzy.

"Hey. You've got to eat. I don't want you passing out. Hailey?" His words jerk me back. His fingers rub across the back of my knuckles.

"I know. I will eat." I say, trying and failing to hide the bite in my voice.

For just an instant I see the hurt on his face again before he veils it with a smile. "Okay, anything in particular?"

We end up picking up take out from some place on Wabash and driving to my apartment. When I walk inside, it's like I'm entering it for the first time, as if the familiarity of it evaporated – and in a way, it has. Nothing is the same anymore. Everything is different. My own body feels foreign to me. I don't know what I thought it would be like once I came home, but I was terribly mistaken if I thought I would find some semblance of normality here.

Sighing, I walk toward the living room and startle when Jay moves to help me with my bag. This time I think I hear him mutter something under his breath. I stop and stand there, staring at him. "I'm Sorry."

He shakes his head. "No problem."

What a lie like that is. I feel an unexplainable burn of anger rise in my throat. There are so many problems strangling the both of us. There is this ugly black ball between us, wrapped in barbs and trip wire. We can't pretend that everything is fine. Pretend like I didn't majorly fuck up. When we both know it. Everything is far from fine. He can pretend, but the truth is eating away at me.

"How can you say that?" The words are out before I realized it.

"Say what?"

"Why won't you be honest with me? I know you're angry with me and—"

"Wait, Hailey, I'm not angry with you. Not at all."

"You should be!"

"I'm not!" His voice is soft and tender, but firm. "And if you think I blame you for what happened, I don't. Not for a second. Matter of fact, you have no blame in this."

I rake my hand through my hair. How can I make him understand? "I jeopardized the whole operation by going dark. Now who knows where they are. You know what? I will tell you where they are – kidnapping, raping, and killing other girls." I shake my head. Tears start falling from my eyes, and a headache returns. "And that's because of what I did. You should be angry. The team should be angry. The whole CPD should me angry. I'm angry!"

He takes a few steps closer and puts his fingers under my chin, lifting my face. "Be angry Hailey, but not at yourself. The whole CPD is indebted to you, actually. It's because of you that we know who we are after."

"I ruined everything, Jay. The case, the unit's reputation… I ruined us." I pause, shutting my eyes tightly. "I know you can't look at me without thinking—"

"Stop," he says shaking his head, sounding completely heartbroken. "I'm going to stop you right there. Do you want to know what I see when I look at you? I see the best damn cop I know. The person I admire and _love_ most in the world. Hailey, nothing will ever change that. Nothing."

I shake my head hating the look on Jay's face right now. I push away from him with all my strength. "Jay," I plea crying and shaking my head. "I can't—"

"Hailey, I mean it. Nothing has changed between us. Nothing," he affirms. He lowers his head and takes a few deep ragged breaths, as though his lungs are failing him. I can see his whole body trembling. "But if you want me to step back and give you space; I will. Whatever you need me to do, I will. But know that—"

"I didn't even scream." Somehow, the words just shoot out of my mouth, bypassing my brain. My emotions are a tumult. "I just lay there. Didn't even fight. I-I just froze…"

He looks at me with soft eyes, glazed with his own tears. "Hailey, you were drugged. Two of the girls we pulled from that house ODed with same cocktail of drugs you had in your system." He takes careful steps towards me, I take a step back. "You didn't fight back because it was physically impossible. Hailey…"

He tentatively opens his arms, inviting me in. I pause for a moment, considering. Then I relent, desperately needing his comfort, his touch. But as soon as he wraps his arms around me, I involuntarily shrink away, feeling panic rising in my chest.

"I'm sorry." He steps back, holding his hands up. He looks away, but not before I see the hurt on his face.

There I go hurting him again.

I should explain. I should tell him it isn't him or his touch, it's nothing to do with him, but this room is getting too small, and it's making me hyperventilate. I gulp for air, panic rising to steal my breath. I step away and escape to the bathroom. _Must get out_, my brain tells me. _Get out. Find space. _

"Hailey," I hear him calling after me. "Hailey, I'm sorry…please…"

I enter the shower, clothes and all, and turn on the water, hot and scalding. I slide down the tiled wall and sit with my knees up to my chest as the tears turn to sobs. Then Jay is immediately at my side, crouching over me and whispering soothing words, trying to coax me back to him. I can feel myself slipping away, deeper and deeper inside myself. I push his hands away weakly. I can't cope with this. I don't' want to cope with this. It hurts. It hurts so much that it rips my insides apart.

I need to shut it all off.

**Jay's POV**

"Hailey? Hailey, look at me." I cup her cheek and tilt her head up so I can look in her pale blue eyes. But her head is limp, and her eyes are empty. "Hailey," I say hoarsely, shaking her shoulder gently. "Come back to me. I'm here. Not going anywhere."

But it's too late, she's not responding to me. She has totally shut down. I exhale in defeat, moving to sit beside her in the shower stall, the hot water cascading over us. I don't know how to help her. My own tears come.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! I know things are a bit dark right now. But just drop a comment and let me know if this is still something you would like me to continue! Otherwise, I'll finish this one up with a quick epilogue. Cheers! **


	17. Chapter 17

**Hailey's POV**

I don't remember falling asleep, but when I wake up it's dark outside. The whole apartment is silent. Little by little reminiscences of what happened when we returned from the hospital comes back. I remember feeling like I was suffocating and the ceiling and walls were closing in on me. I remember running to the bathroom, turning on the hot water, and letting it cascade over me. After that my recollection is blurry, the memories in pieces, drifting tatters of thought; broken images that I don't know for sure if they are real or just dreams. Jay must have taken me out of the shower, changed my clothes – God, he probably saw all the bruising.

I feel hollowed out, riven, as if I just surfaced after too long under water. There's a storm in my head, weighing down on my brain, pushing all the thoughts out through my head. All except for the shame and the guilt. Closing my eyes, I wait a moment, drawing in a ragged deep breath and letting it out slowly.

"Hey," Jay's voice pulls me from my thoughts – a soothing balm over the raw frayed ends of my nerves. "Thought I heard you waking up."

I look up and calm, warm eyes stare into mine. He is standing by the door, wearing a pair of drawstring sweats riding low on his hips and a gray t-shirt. He gives me a shy, lopsided smile that makes him look young. Almost boyish. Suddenly, I become aware of the dull ache in my heart, which is growing sharper and more intense by the second.

"How are you feeling?" He asks.

"Not great," I tell him truthfully. Jay sees right through me like a plate-glass window.

"Do you mind if I sit?"

I nod and pat the empty spot next to me on the bed. Like a dutiful child, he comes, slipping beneath the sheets beside me, leaning back against the pillows. Love. The emotion that radiates from him is love. Something else lingers there too, maybe hope. I gently pull his arm around me, and lay my head on his chest quietly listening to his heartbeat. His hair is wet from a shower and the fresh smell of my soap on him reaches my nose.

Jay pulls me close and leans into me as well. I feel his lips, a gentle touch on the crown of my head. The sweetness of the kiss almost makes me cry. I close my eyes and tuck my head beneath his chin. "I'm sorry about earlier," I say. "I want you to know that it's not you. It has nothing to do with you." I nuzzle his neck, kissing his shoulder to prove the point. "I don't know what happened actually. I was fine until I wasn't. I… couldn't breath," I say at a loss as to how to explain the sudden terror that had overcome me.

He rubs his chin back and forth over the top of my head. "You had a panic attack," he says softly.

I nod and sniff back tears. "A panic attack? That's just—"

"There's just a lot that probably feels and looks different and unfamiliar right now. Your brain is just on high alert, that's all." He tilts his head so that his nose, his cheek brush across my hair. "I've had my fair share of panic attacks too. They are the worse."

"Yeah?"

He presses his lips into my hair again. "Yeah. I had them all the time when I came back from Afghanistan." Lifting my head, I look straight into his eyes. His words come slowly. "I remember one evening at home when I was by myself watching television. I was safe. There was no obvious trigger and I felt completely relaxed. Then out of nowhere, I felt the four walls of my living room closing in around me. I couldn't breath and felt like I was literally dying," he says softly, sounding vulnerable and sincere. He lifts a strand of my hair and sifts his fingers through it. "That's the thing about panic attacks. Sometimes your mind can play tricks on you. Even when you think you're in no danger, your brain might be feeling differently."

"How do I make them stop?" I ask.

Jay rubs my back and tries to sooth me. "There are a few different ways, and you need to find out what works for you. Therapy helped me with that. Helped recognize the triggers and put a stop to it before it got bad."

I nod. "What worked for you?"

"Deep breathing, finding a focus point, and exercising." He smiles, and brushes a few runaway tears from my cheeks with the tips of his fingers. I lean back against him and let him draw my head to his chest, and he holds me tightly. "It takes time, but you learn to recognize when a panic attack is about to begin. You start to pay attention to the tingling sensation, the shortness of breath, and the disconnection from the real life around you."

"Yeah, I felt all that."

"I know."

We sit together for quite a long time, Jay speaking softly to me. He opens up about his time in Afghanistan and what ensued when he returned. Then he tells me about his mother and how her death pushed him into a downhill spiral that nearly killed him. His vulnerability—and his pain—touches me at a deep level. I take his bandaged hand and hold it, wanting him to know I'm listening and that I appreciate what he is doing. I brush my fingers over the hard calluses, note the strength in his hand. Jay's a tough guy, probably the toughest guy I know, yet so gentle and tender. _Wired through the heart, _like Voight says.

"Hey..." He pulls back slightly and I angle my head to see him better. "I want to apologize to you too," he says and there's a new strain in his voice. "I'm sorry if at any point I made you feel like you were letting me down somehow. I know there are things you rather not tell me or that it might be easier to share with someone else. It was selfish or me to expect you to come only to me."

I nod, taking deep breathes, fighting against the way my heart is slamming in my chest.

"Just know that you can never let me down."

We go silent, sitting in the dimly lit room for the next few minutes, both comfortable enough with each other that we don't need to fill the space with words. For the first time in a while, I feel calm and relaxed, as if a huge weight is lifting from my shoulder. I don't feel like I am walking on egg shells and my stomach is not tied in knots. I feel like I can finally breath again.

After a while, I speak very softly, finally breaking the silence. "Did you change my clothes?"

"I did. Sorry. I just couldn't let you keep the wet clothes on. I was scared you might catch a cold or something."

"No, it's okay. Thank you," I say, then after a moment I add, "Does it looks as bad as it seems?"

He takes a deep breath before speaking and I can hear the effort he is putting into holding his temper. I hear the heartbeat in his chest pick up the pace. "There's a lot of deep bruising on your torso, which coincides with the two broken ribs. The ones on your arms and face are fading already, turning slightly yellowish green. Your thighs…" He pauses. A beat of silence hangs over, then his voice comes softly, "The bruising is deep purple, reddening in the center. I'm surprised the skin didn't break."

I unconsciously run a hand over my legs, wincing at the sharp pain that spears me. I don't remember how I got them – I know _how_, but there's a gaping hole in my memory, a black bottomless pit that has sucked away any recollections of it.

"Hey…" He gently nudges me. "The bruises will fade. All the physical stuff will heal in time. Therapy will help with the rest." He pauses and I know where he is going with this. "Have you made an appointment yet?"

I nod. "I'm going to see Dr. Charles tomorrow."

"That's good." He gently squeezes my shoulder and kisses my hair once more. "Tell me when and I will drive you."

I pull away from Jay's chest and look at him – my partner, my boyfriend, my best friend. He smiles lazily as his eyes search mine. I lean in and peck his lips. He kisses me back and gently fans his fingertips over my cheek. He tastes like mint, his lips familiar, smooth, and warm against mine. Then it's like the world goes away. Nothing matters but the touch of his lips on mine.

I pull back after a moment and he runs the pads of his fingers down my face, pulling me close enough that our foreheads touch. "I love you and nothing can ever change that, and nothing will ever change that."

At the look in his eyes and the passion in his voice, everything in me crumbles away, the anger and the grief and the hurt. I just nod in response because I can't form words at the moment. My eyes fill with tears again, the big quiet kind that just keep forming and spilling over.

He pulls his forehead back and brushes my hair from my face. He looks my entire face over and kisses my forehead. "I hope you won't get sick of hearing it, because that's all that comes to mind when I see you. And I will continue to remind you."

"I love you too, _more_ than you'll ever know."

Jay smiles and lifts my hand to his lips to kiss it. Then he puts its it back down and changes the subject to my growling stomach, "You hungry?"

**Jay's POV**

The first couple of weeks at home was difficult. Hailey oscillated between all sorts of emotions – anger, sadness, guilty – sort of like a basket case, for lack of a better term. But slowly things began to even out for her and the panic attacks stopped coming, though not entirely. When her furlough ended, she was more than happy to return to work. The girl was going stir crazy. Even though Voight put her on desk duty, the smile on her face was unmatched.

Her smile.

Have you ever watched the sun come up with the brilliant colors that sweep across the horizon? You get _warm and fuzzy_, and you know that life is as it should be. That very moment, you don't want to be anywhere else but there, and you're sure everything will be okay; that's her smile. It lights up a room and warms my insides. Her smile is locked in my heart; the image is etched in my mind.

We celebrate her return with drinks at Molly's and for the first time in a while, I hear her laugh — a full, open, belly laugh. The kind of laugh that is so contagious, you find yourself laughing too. I stay in the background and just watch her. I've missed her so much and seeing glimpses of her return has been the highlight of the last couple of weeks. It's moments like these that I begin to think crazy thoughts, like putting a ring on her finger crazy.

"She looks good," Will says, taking a seat next to me. "Your hand not so much. I told you to keep the brace on for at least a week."

"My hand is fine," I say and take a swig off my beer. "And yes, Hailey is good."

After a beat, Will says, "You got that look in your eye."

"What look? I don't have a look."

"You love her, don't you?"

"Of course, I do. It's not a secret, you know?"

"I bet you're thinking of doing something stupid," he says, as if reading my mind – or emotion, or whatever.

"What if I am?" I throw a bottle top at him. "It's not like you haven't popped the question before."

"Yeah. Look how that turned out." Will laughs and ducks as another bottle cap sails past his head. "But I think you should do it. I have a good feeling about you two. You've been through so much together, seen each other at your worse…Put a ring on it before she comes to her senses."

This time the bottle cap hits him square on the forehead. "You don't think it's too soon."

"Maybe, but why wait when you know she's _the one_?"

I nod and we clink our bottle together, taking a long drink.

I don't know if it's the alcohol, but the idea is taking root inside my head, and the more I think about it, the more I'm convinced I should. Like Will said, why wait when I know she's it for me. Why not make it official? As if sensing she's being watched, her blue eyes meet mine across the room and I'm rewarded with one of her megawatt smiles that makes me feel like I'd been showered in light. Slipping off her stool, she excuses herself, walks over to me, climbs on my lap, and hooks her arms around my neck. Her eyes are sparkling and slightly glazed from all the drinks. Sometimes it seems surreal that she's mine. That she really loves me back.

"So…" Her hair is hanging loosely around her face as she leans over me. I tuck it behind her ears so I can see her face. My arms circle her waist, holding her securely. "You having fun?"

"Loads," she says giggling. She pulls herself even closer to me and I can feel her as if her body is glowing. "Do you want to get out of here?" She asks.

I raise an eyebrow, her words causing my pulse to race and a chill to run down my arms. "I'll do whatever you want to do. It's your party."

"I think…" She blows a strand of hair out of her face, then tucks behind her ears. Her breath tickles my ear as she whispers, "I want to get out of here."

I nod. She doesn't have to ask twice.

We go back to my apartment and we can't seem to make it very far without one of us ending up pinned against a wall. We make love and it's tender, slow, sweet, warm, and loving. It all feels different, special, sweeter. I've had never felt so connected to anyone, and frankly, it scares me. In a way I feel like I'm no longer a separate entity from Hailey, but rather an extension, and every second I spend with her makes me more aware of this fact.

We lay together and hold each other as we enjoy the afterglow, gently kissing and holding each other tight, neither one speaking. After a few minutes, Hailey releases her arms from around my neck and says, "What are you thinking about."

I roll on my side and prop myself on my elbow. My eyes meet her and I pull away strands of her hair that are stuck to her face with sweat. "Would you marry me?" Completely taken aback, Hailey's mouth moves wordlessly for a few seconds. "Hypothetically," I add to soften the question.

"Oh, uh…I-I…" Her eyes glaze over and she gives me a soft smile. "Yes," she answers, then buries her face in a pillow. "Hypothetically."

I hear her laugh, I feel like laughing, too. I pull her up and kiss her nose. "Okay," I say, smiling so big, it feels like my face is splitting in two. "I will keep that in mind."

"Um-hmm." She takes my face in her hands and we kiss deeply.

We make love again – to celebrate our hypothetical engagement.

x

Time heals all wounds, so they say, and for most part it has. Everything has sort of progressed as it should. Hailey's doing so good. We are doing good. The work is sometimes daunting, but it's our job and we carry our badges with pride. We haven't totally discussed my hypothetical proposal, but we've been considering moving in together. Things are moving along. Life is moving along.

That is, until one fateful day when Voight comes out of his office, a pained expression on his face, his eyes filled with anger. He pauses at the head of the pen and looks around. We all stop and gaze at him expectantly.

"Tony Ramos was apprehended trying to escape the country at the border. He is being extradited to Chicago."

The moment Voight's words are out of his mouth I look to Hailey and I see it coming. Her breathing becomes short and choppy, her cheeks flush, and the light vanishes from her eyes.

"Hailey…"

**Hailey's POV**

The pain is back, there, behind my breastbone, aching, catching my breath short. _Tony Ramos_. _Apprehended_. I feel an overwhelming impulse to cry. But the tears are not coming. I draw in long, slow breaths, trying to restore myself, but I feel a heaviness settle in my chest, as though something new has lodged in there. The overpowering smell of bleach and mildew fills my nose and waves of nausea grips my stomach. I lean forward, hand on my knees, trying to calm myself.

I hear Jay calling me, I feel his arms wrap around my waist. He is holding me tightly. "You're oaky. I'm right here. You're safe. You're in control. Nothing is so bad you can't find your way out," he keeps repeating in a calm and soothing manner.

I lean forward, straining against Jay, my breath still coming out in short, rapid, spurts.

"Close your eyes. Remember that trip we took to Wisconsin? You and me. Remember how the car got a flat. How it was really cold and there was snow on the ground. I slipped on the ice while changing the tire and you couldn't stop laughing."

I still in Jay's arm, remembering that trip. Jay all bundled up in an oversized jacket, changing the tire outside, while I mocked him from inside the car with my hot cocoa. We had a great time at the cabin, but the drive had definitely been one to remember.

After a few minutes, my breathing normalizes, the feeling in my hands and feet return.

"You good, Hails?" Jay asks.

I feel my cheeks flush. "I'm okay now. I'm fine," I say, though the tremor in my voice tells another story.

"Come on. Let's go take a walk."

I want to resist, but I'm still shaking, slightly unsteady on my feet, and an overpowering feeling of anger is boiling just beneath the surface of my skin.

After months of thinking I put this behind me, here I'm back to square one. Time does not heal anything. Time tricks us into thinking we are better when we are not. Time makes us think we have overcome something that we have not. Time does nothing but makes us forget how much it hurt, but it doesn't heal; time forgets.

I remember now, and I'm going to kill that bastard.

* * *

**Thank you for reading and for your input. It really helped me decide where to take this fic. As you can see, I'm veering off the dark stuff and moving towards healing/closure for Hailey. Again, your support means everything! Let me know what you think! Cheers! **


	18. Chapter 18

**Jay's POV **

We all stand at the loading dock, waiting for the convoy with Tony Ramos to arrive. All except Hailey, who is taking a mandated leave of absence until this case is solved. The Feds are involved and the stakes are high. Needless to say, the mood is tense and somber. The air is thick and energized, making everything electric. We all feel the tiny pulses of crackling chaos circling around us. One spark and… boom!

I can feel Voight's eyes on me and I sense a pull coming from his direction, keeping me in check. "Jay, you good?" he asks.

"Yeah, I'm good." I answer. But that can't be farther from the truth, and he knows it.

Feeling the heaviness in the air, Voight clears his throat. "I know this is not how we thought this would go down. But this is how we make things right for Hailey and all the other victims. If we have to play ball with the Feds, so be it. If we have to make unsavory deals to get to the top banana, then that's what we'll do." His words are weighted, heavy with hidden meaning. "We are intelligence and this is us doing our job."

Not long after, a black unmarked van escorted by four unmarked cars pulls up to the dock. Anger boils and bubbles inside me and I'm sure my face shows it. I curl my fingers into a fist as the feeling continues to grow exponentially at the thought of occupying the same space as Tony. I try to focus on my breathing. I can't let my anger consume to the point of actually acting on it. There are too many eyes on this one.

When they yank Tony from inside the van, his eyes land on me curiously. "Riiiiight," he says slowly as a light goes off in his puny head. "You're a cop?" He scoffs and pans his head around as if looking for Hailey. "That bitch. Was Riley an informant? Does your boss know you were banging her on the side?"

I just look at him, the anger inside me simmering. "If I were you, I'd have the good sense to keep my mouth shut," I warn, my voice surprisingly steady considering the amount of adrenaline coursing my veins.

"How's she doing by the way. Last time I saw her she wasn't doing so good."

"You heard the man, shut your mouth," Atwater says shoving him towards the stairs.

"Park him in the interrogation room," Voight commands. "No one is to go in there," he says, looking directly at me.

"She was good. Tight. I'm sure _you_ know that."

The words leave his mouth and my self-control vanishes faster than a snow ball thrown into hell. I go into a blind rage, punching him in the face and stomach full force. Tony doubles over, winded and wheezing. When he straightens, he spits blood from his mouth on the pavement and smiles. I go for another blow to his stupid face, but that's when Ruzek grabs my arm and slams me against the back wall. My body is shaking and my breathing is labored, charged with adrenaline. Ruzek says something, but I can't hear him over my heartbeat pounding in my ears. It takes a few seconds of deep breathing to clear the red from my vision.

"Hey, Jay. You hear me? You good?"

"Yeah," I shake the mad thoughts out of my head. "I'm good."

Ruzek slowly steps away and pats my shoulder. "If you hadn't punched him, I certainly would have."

I nod.

"Oh, hey. Is your hand okay?"

I look down at my hand. My knuckle is bleeding slightly from a torn stitch. "Yeah, it's fine. I'll just wrap it."

I take a deep breath and make my way up to the pen. Voight makes it clear that we are not to go near the interrogation room. We are to sit tight and wait for orders. I sit at my desk and look at Hailey's empty one. I'm glad she's away from all of this.

x

It's been about one hour since Tony arrived at the district. A revolving door of federal agents and lawyers have been coming and going. Voight has come up for air for a few times, but never to report anything. We are basically sitting here twiddling your thumbs, waiting. I'm restless, agitated, and aggravated. I can't focus on anything other than my anger. Anger feel more comfortable and safer than the underlying emotions circling my veins right now.

"Hey Jay," Ruzek's voice pulls me from my thoughts. "You might want to…" he motions with his head towards the top of the stairs.

I look and find none other than Hailey, standing there as if the top of her head is about to blow off, like a volcano. Immediately, I get up and block her path – I know where she wants to go. She ignores me and tries to walk past me, but I stand my ground. Her face is pale, her eyes wide, and I can see her shaking.

"Jay, get out of my way," she says angrily. I can hear the unshed tears in her voice. I can see the strain this is causing her.

"No, Hailey. You can't. You're not even supposed to be here."

"Get out of my way!"

"Hailey…"

She looks at me then, her eyes flat and glittering with fury. She sidesteps me and heads towards the interrogation room, but I gently grab her arm and guide her to the locker room instead. "Hailey, Hailey… stop. You can't go in there." I take the opportunity and retrieve the gun from her holster – just in case she decides to hell with everything. I know I was teetering that ledge just over an hour ago.

She senses the shift in weight on her hip and looks indignantly up at me. "Give me back my gun," she says jerking free from my grasp.

I take a deep breath. "I can't do that. I also can't let you go in there."

She pauses for a minute, and something inside her seems to crack. "It's true then? The Feds giving him a deal."

Of course she would find out about it. She looks up at me with glassy eyes, her lower lip trembling. "We shouldn't be making deals with scum!"

"I get it. I do, but this is bigger than Tony, right?" I say the words and I know they sound empty and hollow. "You said it so yourself he is not the shot caller."

The look of disdain on her face hits me like a physical blow. "I can't believe you're taking _their_ side."

"Hailey, I'm not. I'm not taking anyone's–"

"—You saw what he did to Tamara and all the other girls," she says through gritted teeth. "You saw what he did to me!" She paces the room in frustration, hot, angry tears coursing down her face. "He doesn't deserve a deal. He deserves to rot in jail or in a ditch somewhere." She stops her pacing and glares at me. "You should be _more_ angry."

"Hailey, I'm furious. The only thing that's keeping me from going in there and killing him myself is the fact that it won't put an end to this ring. It would be like trying to put out a fire with a cup of water. It's not enough."

Grief claims her then and she collapses on a bench, making no more effort to rebel. "I thought I was good. I thought this was behind me." Hailey's voice cracks and she puts her head down as she says barely above a whisper, "I feel like I will never be over this."

I take a seat next to her and wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her closer to me. I kiss her hair and squeeze her gently, trying my best to comfort her. I've come to accept that I can't give back what Tony took from her. No one can. It's probably what drives Hailey into this state of frenzy. No matter how many therapy sessions or how much time passes, Hailey will never get that part of herself totally back.

"Has Voight said anything?"

"No, he is keeping everyone out of the loop. I know the Feds are only cooperating with us because Voight was adamant about seeing this case through."

"The Feds don't care. They will give this guy five years, he'll be out in three for good behavior."

Running my fingers down her arm, I take her hand in mine. It is hot, like she has a fever. "Voight won't let that happen."

She pauses and notices my injured hand. "Why is your hand wrapped? Did you pull a stitch?"

"Yeah," I answer, offering no more detail. "It's fine."

She nods skeptically and after a beat she asks, "Do you think we can listen in on the interrogation?"

I pause, considering her request carefully and taking a deep breath before speaking. "Voight actually told us to not go near the room. But is that something you really want to do?"

Hailey pulls herself together, sucking back her tears, and taking a breath so deep I think it originated in her feet. "Yes."

"Okay, let's do it."

**Hailey POV**

Seeing his face again.

My head spins as my thoughts crash like waves, each more painful than the last. I feel a burning anger rising from the pit of my stomach. I don't like it, but it gives me something to focus on other than the hurt, and I let it in.

The only thing keeping me from chocking this bastard is the two-way mirror and Jay, who is standing next to me, hand on the small of my back, keeping me grounded. Also, the fact that Tony has a fresh black eye and Jay's hand has a fresh bandage doesn't escape me.

As I listen to the interrogation the anger starts to eat at me, and I'm sure that if I don't get it out of me soon, I will explode. I'm scared of what I might do if I let the anger take over right now. I have to move, do something, not just stand here anymore. I can feel myself spiraling and I don't know how to stop.

"Hey, let's go upstairs," Jay offers. I look up at him and he is searching my face. How long has he been watching me? "If Voight finds us here, he'll blow a fuse. I think it will be best if we take a break."

"Sure," I say and he guides me back to the pen, his hand never leaving the small of my back.

We sit in the bullpen for hours before Voight finally resurfaces. His eyes land on me and he doesn't seem one bit surprised to see me. He acknowledges me with the slightest nod of his head. If a nod could be cold, his would take the prize.

Voight breaks down the deal the Feds have offered Tony in exchange for everything he knows. In no certain terms, Voight lets it be known that the amount of time he will do is contingent on the value of his intel. In other words, he might do a year max. I try not to let my anger get the best of me. I hold myself tight and think about what Jay said earlier – this is bigger than Tony.

After we are debriefed, I venture out of my desk and knock on Voight's door, "Sarge, can I talk to you?"

"Come in," he says and motions for me to sit down. I see his face and can't help but see a fusion of pity and affection there, the type of emotion conjured by a limping dog. I take a seat and hesitate, considering what to say, but the words escape me. Not, not escape… I just can't stop thinking over my anger. Something feels very wrong, I just can't formulate a single coherently sentence.

Voight looks at me and asks, "Anything you want to discuss?"

I square my shoulders, fixing my eyes on a random point on the wall in front of me. "Did my name come up at all during the interrogation?" I control my tone, careful not to seem too furious. Too much anger might indicate I'm out of control.

Voight nods. "Riley's name did come up."

"Does he know I'm a cop?"

"No. And we will keep it that way. As long as the deal is on the table and Tony abides by the terms, there won't be a trial and you won't have to testify."

"I would testify," I say. "If it comes to that I will stand in front of a judge and tell everything that bastard did to me." I pause for a moment to compose myself before I ask, "Did he confess to killing Tamara and the other girls?"

Voight nods. "We have him on everything." He exhales audibly and adds, "He is not getting a free pass. He'll do time. I will make sure of it."

"Not enough for what he did," I blurt out.

"You're right. He doesn't deserve the olive branch the Feds are giving him, but the girls being trafficked right now do. I don't make deals with bottom feeders, but we went at this from every direction and we didn't get very far. This is how we get them. All of them."

Despite the sound logic in Hank's words, I don't find any solace. I guess there is nothing he can tell me to alleviate the anger I feel. I guess we are all wrapped in a straitjacket.

"Go home, Hailey. You're still on temporary leave until this is over. It's the only way Intelligence can stay on the case."

I nod. "Thanks, Sarge."

I leave Voight's office and Jay is waiting for me, sitting at the edge of my desk. Everyone has left for the day and it's just the two of us now. When he seems me, his face softens with a soft smile. "Hey," he reaches for my hand, pulling me slowly to him. "I have a proposition for you?" I eye him skeptically as he draws me even nearer. "You. Me. The cabin," he says and his eyebrows raise suggestively.

"What?"

Taking pity on my muddled brain, Jay smiles that soft smile again at me. "Let's go to the cabin. Just for a few days, until this all blows over."

I look at him contemplating his proposition. "Jay—"

"This is how _you_ change the narrative, Hailey. This is how _you_ take control. Tony doesn't deserve an ounce of your attention. He doesn't deserve your anger or your energy."

As much as I want to bask in my anger, Jay is right. I can't let Tony inside my head anymore. I can't let him take anything else away from me. Jay gazes at me affectionately, as he touches my face for a moment, then the corners of his mouth stretches into a smile. "So, you in?"

I nod. "Yeah, but I'm driving this time."

* * *

**I apologize for the delay in posting this. I know it's not the greatest, but it's something I could produce in my current headspace. It's just been hectic/crazy on my end as I'm sure it is for a lot of you out there. Finding a new norm/routine when everything is upside-down is tricky. I hope this gives you a moment of solace from everything that is going on. Cheers! **


	19. Chapter 19

**Rated [M] for mature content. **

**Jay's POV**

I'm standing outside Hailey's apartment waiting for her to come out so we can head out to the cabin. As much as I want to hammer the last nail in Tony's coffin, I know Hailey needs to be as far away from here as possible. After everything that has happened, it will be nice to get away, clear our heads. There will always be situations in our line of work that can make us miserable, and choosing to be miserable about it only makes a bad situation worse. This is us stepping back from the ledge and putting our energy into things we have control over.

Hailey's entire face lights up and a smile plays across her lips when she sees me. My chest stirs with contentment. She walks towards me, and I lean against the car, watching her beauty. It's like my vision is a tunnel. All the shapes around her are blurred – her face is the only thing I see clearly. As soon as she is within arm's reach, I lean out and pull her to me. I wrap my arms around her then lean down and kiss her. she eagerly wraps her hands around me too. Everything fades as I hold her. She is my center. All I need in life is her.

"You ready to go?" I ask.

"Ready as I will ever be," she says. I loosen my hold, but don't let go just yet.

"This will be good for us," I tell her. "And it looks like we might get good weather," I say kissing her smiling lips.

We get in the car and with the warm spring breeze in our faces, we drive in comfortable silence. When the road allows it, I exceed the speed limit eager to get there. More than once we glance at each other at the same time. When it happens again, Hailey reaches over and runs her fingers through my hair.

"You know what?" she says. "You should let your hair grow out some."

I blink. "What? No, that's not happening."

"Just to see what it would look like."

I look at Hailey, roll my eyes, and have to fight the urge to get lost in her smile. It is radiating and I don't want to take my eyes off of her, but I need to concentrate on the road. "It won't look good. I can tell you that."

"So, you've grown it out before?"

"Yeah," I tell her embarrassedly. "All the time when I was a teenager."

"I want proof. Where are those pictures?" she says and her laugh is soft and warm.

I'm smiling despite myself. You know what? I will show her all my embarrassing pictures. I will even print huge posters of my freckled self, looking like I'm the lead singer in a boy band if it means I get to see her smile this big all the time.

"I think they are all in storage, but I think I might have a couple at my apartment," I tell her. "You just have to promise to show me yours. I want to see what little Hailey Anne looked like."

She smiles and shakes her head. "I had a perm, braces, and a string-bean frame. So you might want to rethink looking at something you can't un-see. The image will be burned in your head. Forever."

I chuckle and take her hand in mine over the center console and kiss it. "I bet you were still cute."

x

We finally arrive at the cabin late in the afternoon. The sun is slipping towards the horizon, casting its sunset colors over the still water of the lake. We are tired from the drive and from everything. But finally it's just us, Hailey and me, and the rest of the world is in silent darkness. It'll be waiting for us in a few days, but until then we can ignore it.

I unpack the car and have an idea. "Babe, want to meet in at the hot tub?" I grin and nod to the French doors. "Right out there."

A smile of relief mingled with happiness crosses her face. It almost undoes me. "Yes. Let me change."

She disappears towards the bedroom and I gather two wine glasses and a few candles to put around the tub that sits on the deck.

Hailey comes out minutes later wearing a thin, satin robe. She opens it and it slides past her shoulders, exposing a lot of soft radiant skin. As it falls, she catches it and gives it a playful toss. She's wearing this frilly red bikini and my breath catches, and suddenly my heart is skipping a few beats. I smile. It's all I can manage. She's just so perfect. Pink tints her cheeks as she takes slow steps towards me, smiling timidly. I don't know why she's suddenly shy.

"C'mere," I say extending my arms to her.

She climbs up and slowly steps inside the gurgling hot water. Candlelight flickers across her features, and the steam that rises makes the tendrils of her hair around her face curl. If it's possible, she looks even more beautiful now than ever before.

"This is romantic," she says with a smile. And what a smile it is. Sweet, lighting up her blue eyes. Her happiness seems to overflow and I'm smiling like an idiot too. I hand her a glass of wine and watch as she takes a long sip.

She settles into a spot across from me, and I can't take my eyes off her – her flushed cheeks, the rise and fall of her breasts just above the water. I clear my throat. "To happiness," I say and lift my wine glass. She looks amused, tips her head back, and laughs delightedly. "What? Too cheesy?" I ask.

"Totally." She chuckles and adds in a soft, sensual voice. "But I love cheesy."

I reach for her. "You're too far away."

"Is that so?" She sets her wine glass on the edge and swims the very short distance to me. I pull her onto my lap, and she straddles me, wrapping her legs behind my back. "That better?" she asks.

"Much better."

She shifts her hips and settles against me and I groan. I kiss her softly, nibbling at her lips and sliding my hands into her hair. My chest fills with a tenderness I can't handle, and I deepen the kiss, knot my hand into her hair pull her even closer to me, if that is even possible. She moans sweetly and I let my hands roam. I can't stop touching her. Unhurried, I graze over the red triangles covering her breasts, up the smooth column of her throat. When I find the tie of her bikini at her neck, I pull it, baring her chest to me.

I cup her breasts in my hands and dip my head giving attention to each nipple, laving one, then the other, before I return to the first and suck it between my teeth. Her hands are in my hair and she presses my face to chest, as if silently begging for more.

She rocks her hips against me, and even though it's torture, even though she's pushing me to skate on the edge on my control, I push back and slip my hand between her thighs, dragging the tip of my thumb along the front center of the bikini bottoms. She releases a small sigh and her head falls forward, on my shoulder. When she says my name, I can feel her lips move against my skin and I hold her tighter.

I continue to arouse her with my fingers and her moans turn desperate, louder, and the rocking of her hips turn to grinding as she climbs towards her orgasm.

"That's it," I say breathless. "Come for me, babe."

"Yes." Her voice light, almost getting lost in the breeze that billows over us.

She bucks her hips to the rhythm of my teasing strokes against her. I continue to tenderly kiss, lick, and suck until she spams, at once arching towards my touch and away. She breaks, falling apart in my hands, her moans echoing off the trees around us.

I kiss her shoulder, her neck, and her temples. She catches her breath against my chest, circling her hips every few seconds as she rides the receding tide of her orgasms back down. Then, her feet still locked behind my back, I wrap my arms around her, lift her out of the water, and carry he inside.

I lay her down in front of the fire, watching the light of the flame flicker in her eyes and make her skin glow. She reaches for me and I lower myself to the floor next to her. She tugs my boxers down my legs and I don't fight her. I want her too much. One hand on my chest pushes me flat on my back while the other strokes my thigh. I can hardly catch my breath and my whole body shivers at her touch, both rough and soft.

Dazed, I watch Hailey's mouth trail kisses down my throat. Soon her teeth are at my nipples. I take in a hiss of air as the edge of her teeth bites me. A little pain with a lot of pleasure. Then her mouth moves lower and I'm panting in anticipation. The light touch of her talented fingers make me shiver with waves of pleasure. When she bends down, I'm enveloped in the heat of her mouth. It's so good. Throwing my head back, I moan and thrust up for more. When I think I'm going to explode, her mouth pulls off me, and I inadvertently moan. She bites her lips innocently and looks at me from under her lashes. A brief second of sanity pushes its way through the fog in my brain and my lips crush hers.

I hover over her, and lean down and kiss her right breast. "You… can't… start… something and not… finish," I say between kisses. I take her nipple into my mouth and flicker it gently with my tongue. Hailey squirms beneath me.

"I just thought…" her voice catches. "You would want to finish inside of me."

She was only teasing me? The nerve! I smile, laughing quietly, then kiss her mouth and nose, down her jaw, kissing her throat and collarbone. My hands stroke from her shoulder across her left breast to her knee. I wrap my hands firmly around her leg, hitch her knee up, and tug her red bikini bottom down her leg.

"Hold on tight," I tell her with a wink.

She wraps her arms around my neck and strokes the back of my head. "I'm holding on tight," she grins. "And I may never let go."

I sigh, bend my face down and kiss her urgently. "I'm counting on that."

Hailey grips the back of my head and kisses me back. She draws in a sharp breath as I slowly enter her. We rock back and forth in this sensual dance. I hug her so tight and kiss her so hard I lose myself. Minutes later we collapse together, spent. We cuddle close and she falls asleep in my arms, breathing slowly and contentedly. I watch her for hours, memorizing the shape of her face, the flat of her stomach, the curve of her hipbone. She's beautiful, and when she sleeps, all that beauty is raw and unguarded.

You know what? I'm going to ask her to marry me.

**Hailey's POV**

I wake up alone.

I roll onto my stomach, bury my head in a pillow, feeling deliciously spent and maybe a little sore. I hear a quiet sound, and twist around to find Jay standing naked in the doorway, holding a breakfast tray. A warm sensation fills my chest. My gaze strays all over his perfect frame. Everything about him is compelling – the way he moves, the things he says, his body. He looks downright edible in his birthday suit.

He sets the tray on the side table and creeps into bed. "Morning," he says with a small peck to my lips.

"Good morning," I reply, placing my hand on his bare chest. I'm having a hard time believing how lucky I'm to have Jay in my life. "Being here feels like a dream, like I'm imagining all of this."

"Your imagination must be pretty amazing, because I'm pretty sure this is about as good as it gets."

I chuckle. "Thank you. I really needed this."

He flashes me his boyish smile and I nearly melt. "I needed this too. It's been a chaotic few months for the both of us."

"Yeah," I nod. "But you stuck around despite everything. I know how lucky I'm."

"Come here, you." He reaches for me. "I'm the lucky one, okay?" he hugs me. "I love you, Hailey. Always have, always will and nothing will ever change that. Nothing."

I pull back and look at him. He is smiling, but his eyes are dead serious. "I love you too," I say.

A low, strangled sound escapes his throat. The emotion is too much. Jay kisses me as openly and unabashedly as ever. I lean back on the pillows, and draw him down with me for a little morning delight.

x

A while later, we find ourselves still in bed. Jay is laying with his head on my belly, looking up at the ceiling, when my stomach suddenly growls.

"Hungry?" Jay turns to me and wiggles his eyebrows.

I shove him a little. "Easy. It's not just me. And yes, I'm hungry."

He places a quick kiss on my stomach. "You're right, it's not just you," he says with a devilish grin.

He crawls to me and kisses me, then picks up the tray of food from the side table. We sit cross-legged, facing one another, wrapped in the sheets, and eat a very late breakfast. Outside the sun is high in the sky, and the spring air is warm and balmy.

We do absolutely nothing. We don't think, we don't worry, we simply appreciate the pleasure of being together. We spend every second pretty much intertwined and it only makes it more obvious that I won't bear the thought of spending a single second without him. I didn't know relationships could be this intense, this consuming. After everything that happened, being with Jay make me feel real, not some shadow of myself. He's different. I'm _different _with him.

Later in the day we go for a hike and when we return Jay pulls off his shirt and tosses it on top of the deck overlooking the lake. I'm blatantly staring at him and when I meet his gaze he is watching me too, and something sparks in his eyes. He turns his gaze to the lake. "Lake's all ours. I think we should cool off," he says, his voice excited as he rubs his hands together, his eyes promising sweet mayhem.

"I'm fine just like I am." I hold up a finger to warn him, but it's too late. He picks me up and the next thing I know, I'm over his shoulder. I squirm and jerk but my efforts don't faze him. So I pinch his butt. He stops and spins around like he wants to look into my face. But all it does is make me dizzy.

"If there's a bruise on my butt cheek, I'm going to give you one to match it," he says with a laugh.

I pinch him again because there's nothing else I can do. "Put me down, Jay!" I squeal. "Put me _down_!"

Suddenly, he bounces me off his shoulder. I close my eyes and hold my breath, because I expect to get a face full of water. Instead, I slide slowly down the front of him, his hands moving up to hold my hips and slowly slipping underneath my shirt.

"Jay," I complain.

I move to push from him, but he wraps his arms around me and we fall together in one heap into the lake. To say the water is cold is an understatement. It's early spring and even though the temperatures are around seventy degrees, the water must me in the sixties. All I can do is wrap my arms around his shoulders and hang on. When we resurface, I'm clinging to him with my legs around his waist and my arms holding him tightly.

"You're going to pay for this," I say, blowing water from my lips.

"I was hot and sweaty," he reasons.

He walks out deeper and deeper, until the water levels at his neck. I move to unwrap my legs from around his waist, but he catches my thighs and hitches them back up.

"I wasn't," I protest shivering. "I was just fine."

"Bet it feels good, right?" He laughs and I feel his lips graze my neck. "Salty," he says.

My heart stutters. A shiver runs up my spine, but it's not because of the chilly water. I really want to be mad at him, but he is making it so hard. He kisses me then. The whole lake rises to a simmer. His lips crush against mine, and his tongue enters my mouth. Despite being irked from being pitched into the freezing lake, I kiss him back, tightening my grip to absorb his warmth as much as possible.

He leads us away, where the water is shallow, over smooth sand, and lays me down. We kiss again, and Jay parts my legs, pulls down his shorts, and lets me feel his erection. I quiver in some very vulnerable places. He pulls my shirt and sports bra off and tastes my breasts, slick with lake water, and I squirm with anticipation.

He slides my leggings over my hips and slips my underwear to the side, providing just enough room for him to enter me, but only partially. The muscles in his shoulders and back quivers under my hands as he strains to hold himself in check. I lift my head and catch his right earlobe between my teeth, and he breaks. The thrusts are deep and so powerful that it takes my breath away, and God, he feels good.

I'm not cold anymore. In fact, there's a fire burning under my skin and it centers beneath Jay's hand roaming my bare back around my ribs, his fingers grazing the underside of my breasts. I arch into him and a low moan erupts from his chest—or mine? Who cares.

I'd thought I was exhausted, spent, with nothing more to give, but he soon proves me wrong. I rock forward to increase the friction because that's what he does to me, turns me crazy and love drunk. After half a dozen strokes, each one harder than the last, I come apart. It's only then that he lets himself go too.

Gradually, our breathing evens out and our heart rate slows. I'm plastered to his front, breathing in his scent like a drug, his arms locked around me, and I'm not sure I ever want to leave this place.

"So, how many girls have you brought up here?" I ask.

He laughs. I notice new freckles emerging on his sun-kissed skin. "You're my first."

"Really?"

"Yeah," he says timidly.

"So, I popped your _cabin cherry_?"

"Yes, you did." He laughs.

I don't know how long we lay, with the lake tide splashing over us, but we finally get out of the water when the sun's rays no longer provide any warmth. We collect our clothes and go back to the cabin. We slip into the bedroom and a new hunger takes over. I love this man…more than I ever thought possible. We make love again under the hot shower.

x

Jay makes us a simple pasta dinner that is beyond delicious. With every bite I try to figure out the recipe. There are onions and garlic, the sauce is not overpowering. Basil, I taste basil. He added something else that makes it rich, but not in a way that makes me feel guilty eating it.

"This is amazing," I say between forks full of pasta. "Why have you been holding out on me?"

He chuckles and looks bashful. He stares at me, then behind me, gazing around. I notice he isn't eating, but only pushing the pasta around his plate. Something's off.

"Where did you get the recipe?" I ask.

"My mom," he says. His gaze is intense for a moment. "This is nothing compared to hers, though." Jay looks wistful, his smile a tinge sad. "She would have loved you."

I smile, even as a piercing ache clutches my heart. "I wish I could have met your mom. She's got to be super proud, watching how well you've done for yourself."

A shadow crosses his face. He comes around the table and pulls me to my feet. He leans in and kisses me – a kiss so intimate and thorough, that communicates everything his words can't. I've pretty much spent the day kissing his lips, but this time it takes my breath away. He pulls back and looks into my eyes. If I didn't know better, I'd say he looked nervous. Or unsettled. Or anxious.

"Hailey…." He pulls further back and holds my hands in his. "I love you. You're the best thing that ever happened to me. I was so broken when I met you, but slowly you helped me put all my pieces back together. I've never met anyone liked you. You're the woman for me. I'm the luckiest man."

Jay kisses my hand and gets down on one knee. My heart feels like it is trying to beat its way from behind my ribs. His hand moves to his pocket and he pulls a red velvet box. He pops the lid open and smiles. "This was my mother's ring." He looks up at me with love in his eyes and says, "I was going to wait for a more appropriate time to do this. But I think if ever there was a time, it's now. Hailey Anne Upton, I love you. And if you do me the honor of becoming my wife, I promise I'll spend every day from this moment forward, loving you, and only you. Will you marry me?"

My tears are instant, streaming down my cheeks. My vision blurs. My throat becomes constricted that I have to squeeze out my, "Yes."

"Yes?"

I bend down and press my lips to his quivering ones. "Yes, I will marry you," I murmur against his mouth.

He slips this beautiful ring on my finger and stands up, wrapping his arms around me. His lips cover mine; it is a long kiss, a desperate kiss, tasting of both our tears and our love for each other. He deepens the kiss, his hands going over my jawline and holding my lips to his for a moment, before he releases me. He runs his fingers through my hair and says smiling, "I love you."

"I love you too."

We kiss again and again and everything is right in the world because I'm going to spend the rest of my life with the only person I've ever shared myself with. My whole self, all my bullshit, my body, my heart.

* * *

**Thanks for reading. I thought ya'll needed a bit of smut/fluff and sweet Upstead for a change. I know I needed it! I'm glad I have you guys d****uring these crazy times****. I hope this brought a smile to your face. Cheers! **


	20. Chapter 20

**Jay's POV **

We drive back from the cabin feeling happy. Every time we look at each other we laugh because we are genuinely giddy. If we smile any bigger the top of our faces might split off. I didn't know it was even possible to be this elated, this in love. It's different than anything I've felt before. Hailey is everything to me. Nothing matters without her. From now on, all my efforts, everything—everything I do – is to create a greater _me, _for her, a _me_ worthy of her love.

As soon as Chicago's distinctive skyline, anchored by the John Hancock Center and the Sears Tower, comes into view, reality punctures our blissful romantic bubble. In my periphery I catch a glimpse of the conflicting emotions rippling across Hailey's face. I take my eyes off the wheel to glance at her, knowing exactly what's going on in her head. "We'll take it a day at a time," I assure her.

Hailey nods and offers me what she thinks is a convincing smile. It's not. "I'm not ready to return to reality just yet," she says with a soft sigh.

"If you want we can still pretend we're at the cabin." I wink and a rosy blush appears on her sun-kissed cheeks. "I can buy those pine tree air fresheners," I offer, "Hang it all around the apartment…"

She shakes her head and laughs. "That won't be necessary." A real smile covers her face and she squeezes my hand. "Sooner or later I'm going to have to face this. No reason in delaying it, right?"

I nod and I pull her hand to my lips, pressing a kiss on her knuckles. A glint from my mom's ring on her finger catches my eyes and I smile. "Stay with me tonight?" I ask her.

"Only if you order take-out. I'm starving."

"Anything for my future wife." The words slides from my mouth, naturally. I've never felt so sure of anything in my life.

Hailey's face breaks into a smile and her cheeks flush pink. "Future _wife_, huh?"

I can see Hailey rolling the word over in her mind, liking the sound of it.

_Wife._

"That's the point of the whole ring thing, you know?" I say and the smile on her face warms my heart.

She nudges my arm and laughs. She clears her throat and says, "So, when do we tell everyone?"

"It's up to you," I say. "They know about us. Maybe Hank will be more forgiving and open to us working together knowing this isn't just a fling. We do make a hell of a team."

She nods in agreement. "Yeah. We'll tell them right away. I don't want tip toe around Voight, or the team."

"Deal."

We arrive at my apartment building just as the sun is setting. We eat take out and after Hailey is asleep, I decide to catch up on a few emails from work. Minutes later I hold back a sigh, regretting my decision. Turns out, Tony wasn't completely transparent with the FEDs and Hailey will most likely have to testify in open court. Every time I think we take a step forward, it always follows with two steps back. Having to relive the memories of what happened in front of a jury is the lasts thing I want for her.

I look at Hailey's sleeping form and she looks so peaceful. I watch her chest rise and fall, none of her worries can be seen on her face. She deserves to looks this serene all the time. I close my laptop and gather her to me. She stirs and her eyes flutters open. Sleepy blue irises look slightly unfocused at me. "Hey," she murmurs, and an incredibly sweet, drowsy smile curves her lips. "Everything okay?"

I caress her cheek and touch the corner of her drowsy smile. "Everything is fine. Go back to sleep."

Her back extends with an inhale, her breath tickling my chest when it rushes out. "You sure?"

"I'm sure." I kiss the top of her head and her response is a wordless sigh of contentment. She stretches, drawing the covers over her shoulders, and goes back to sleep. My conscious mind also surrenders to the lethargy winding my body. Tomorrow, I think. We can talk tomorrow. Besides, this might take a few weeks before the district attorney is ready to go to trial.

In the meantime, we sleep.

**Hailey's POV **

I never noticed how claustrophobic these witness waiting rooms are. I've been inside them a million times, but they are definitely smaller than I remember. I feel stifled within these four walls. I begin to pace back and forth anxiously trying to calm my nerves.

Inhale. Exhale. Deep. Slow.

I've been solid about testifying; fully aware I would have to relive the worse day of my life in front of a jury. But now the thought is making my stomach churn. I don't know what will happen when all the memories resurface, or when I see Tony's face. I've come so far. The last thing I want is to trigger a relapse. I continue pacing, avoiding Jay's eyes, as I wait for the bailiff to call me in.

"Babe…"

"I'm fine, Jay," I tell him, despite knowing he can see the worry on my face.

"Hey…" I feel his arms slowly wrap around me, immobilizing me. I don't resist. I turn in his embrace, and then his lips are on my forehead, eyes, cheeks, nose, and lips. "I love you," he says and adds, "And I'm so proud of you." He speaks slow and soft. "I can't imagine how hard this is, but if anyone can do this. You can do this."

He pulls me to him and embraces me so tight I can feel his heart beating on my chest. As much as I want to hide my feelings from him at times, right now I'm glad he can tell how upset I am. His eyes are soft as he puts his hand on my cheek. "Everything will be okay," he says and at that moment, I believe him.

The door to the waiting room opens and Voight peeks his head inside, "They are ready for you, Hailey," he says.

I let out a breath. My heart is racing and my stomach is in knots.

"Hey, you got this," Jay says, giving my shoulder a quick squeeze of assurance. He kisses my lips once again and says, "I will see you inside."

I nod and follow Voight out.

The bailiff opens the door to the courtroom and I slowly enter, hearing everyone shifting in their seats to look at me. I dare to look about and note the number of people present, while also observing the many familiar faces. My eyes catch Jay's as he enters the courtroom from the back, a bright and hopeful smile lights up his face. I feel a small ounce of relief, but it is short-lived when Tony's face comes into view. He looks stunned, eyes wide - like he is seeing a ghost.

I take my place on the witness stand and am sworn in. The lawyer from the prosecution, Peter Stone, slowly stands up behind his table.

"Would you please state your name and occupation for the record?" he asks.

"My name is Hailey Upton. I'm a detective with the Chicago police department."

"You are a decorated officer, detective Upton." He sifts through a few pieces of paper in front of him and adds, "Multiple awards, merit medals, special commendation—"

"Objection, relevance?" Tony's lawyer pipes up.

"Determines the witness's character," Stone says.

"Overruled. Continue, but make it brief Mr. Stone," the judge says.

"In fact, detective, you were meritoriously promoted to detective because of your outstanding service and dedication to the citizens of Chicago. So, tell me how you came to cross paths with the defendant."

"I worked undercover in his club."

"Why was the Chicago police department investigating Mr. Ramos?"

"We had reason to believe his club was a front for a sex trafficking ring."

Stone continues his line of questioning leading up to Tamara's death. We rehearsed this and I feel somewhat at ease. But I know the meat of my testimony is coming and I need to remain composed if I'm to get through it unscathed.

"What happened when you went to Mr. Ramos's club after Tamara's body was found in a dumpster?"

I take a deep breath, my mind slowly turning dark. "Tony was taken aback that I had arrived unannounced. He seemed under the influence and kept asking if I wanted to take him up on his offer to sleep with his clients for extra cash. When I turned him down he got physical. He tried to force himself on me and when I fought back he had his bodyguards retrain me. Then they blindfolded me and drove me to one of his stash houses in Pilsen. They locked me in a basement and drugged me."

The prosecutor pulls out two pieces of paper from one of the folders on his bench and hands one to the judge and the other to me. "Please tell the court what you have in your hand."

"This is my tox screen from that night."

"Would you mind telling the court what drugs were found in your system?"

"Clonazepam, GBH, ketamine, and MDMA."

"Date rape drugs," Stone clarifies to the jury. There's a beat of silence before the lawyer adds, "Did Mr. Ramos rape you?"

My eyes briefly dart around the courtroom and land on Jay's. He gives me an imperceptible nod of his head. _Nail this prick. _I clear my throat and answer, "Yes."

"No further questions, Your Honor. The prosecution rests."

The defendant's lawyer stands up for the cross examination. "Detective Upton," he says in a high squeaky voice providing a glimpse of yellow tobacco stained teeth. "I'm truly sorry for what you went through. I really am."

I nod, unsure what's his angle with the fake sympathy.

"You said my client's bodyguards blindfolded you and took you to an unknown location, correct?"

"Yes."

"So you didn't see my client at this basement?"

"I saw him when he was on top of me, raping me," I state through gritted teeth, feeling a sharp stab of anxiety, deep in my chest.

"Which was after you were drugged, correct?" he asks.

"Yes."

The lawyer paces around and I can see he is holding the results of my tox screen in his hand. "Did you fight your attacker?"

His question seems like a trap. "I tried, but couldn't," I tell him.

"Because of all the drugs in your system, correct?"

"Yes."

He takes a moment before formulating his next question. "The police report states that five girls were found in that basement with you and two died from the same drug cocktail that was in your system. Did you know that?"

"Objection, You Honor," the prosecutor interjects. "Relevance."

"I will allow."

"Answer the question, detective Upton," the defense lawyer insists.

"Yes. I was aware two girls overdosed."

"On the same drug cocktail that kept you from fighting off your attacker, correct?"

"Correct."

"Now tell me, detective Upon, how can you be sure it was my client who raped you? I'm not a doctor, but the amount of drugs present on your tox screen would have rendered a horse unconscious."

"Objection! The counsel is testifying."

"Sustained."

"Apologies, Your Honor, I will rephrase. Detective Upton, I'm certain you are aware that the side effects of those drugs include confusion and memory loss. So, is it possible you imagined seeming my client attack you because you presumed him to be responsible for Tamara's death, despite finding zero evidence of foul play at his club?"

I shake my head. The memories I've suppressed over the last few months start to resurface. I'm currently riding every wave of emotion you can imagine. I squeeze my eyes shut, clenching my jaw as the horror of those images assails my mind as fresh and new as the day it happened.

"Please answer the question, detective."

**Jay's POV **

Tears pool in Hailey's eyes and I can see that she is fighting to regain control. I know the memories from that night are playing in her head like a horror movie. I can't stand to see her like this – vulnerable – after she'd been so strong. I'm keeping my outward appearance calm, but internally I'm raging. Our eyes meet for a brief moment and it is as if she's trying to decide if I am ready to hear what she's about to say. I'm not. I'm will never be ready to hear what happened, but I nod my head.

"I remember everything," her voice breaks. "I remember the smell of mildew and bleach in that basement. I remember the stupid grin on your client's face when he watched me struggle. The last thing he said to me before he raped me was, _I'm going to enjoy this. You should too."_

She details her attack further and every word is like a gut punch to my stomach. I close my eyes and my mind travels like a low-lying fog back to that day. The way I found her bloody and unconscious, the fear in her eyes, the bruises on her body…It's a lot to process right now.

Tony's lawyer ends his line of questions shortly after, realizing Hailey's words hit a chord with the jury. After a few redirecting questions from Stone, Hailey exits the stand. I meet her back at the witness waiting room and am thankful when she wraps her arms around me and buries her face against my chest. She sniffles a little as I stroke a hand down her spine and murmur how much I love her; how incredible I think she is.

"You are amazing," I say. If we weren't in this room I would kiss each of those tear tracks on her cheeks, bind her to me and make her feel safe. "Want to head home?"

At that she draws back and wipes the few tears on her cheeks and nods. "I would like nothing more."

x

The trial drags for an additional five days, but once it is over the jury deliberates for only a couple of hours before they find Tony Ramos guilty on all charges. Three days later he is sentenced to two consecutive life sentences without a chance of parole. Tony Ramos and the rest of his cronies aren't seeing the light of day for the remainder of their insignificant life.

Hailey and I move in together after that, and during breakfast one morning, she casually drops a bomb on me. She is…late.

"W-What do you mean you're late?"

"I mean 'I'm late' as in I haven't gotten my period yet."

I sit there shocked in silence with Hailey looking at me, waiting for me to react, to say something. Then I manage to gather my wits and ask, "A-Are you sure?"

"That I'm late? Yes, Jay. I'm sure."

"How late?" I blurt out like an idiot.

She turns her whole body towards me so our knees touch. "Two months."

I rake my fingers through my hair and attempt to pull my scattered thoughts together. "Why didn't you say something earlier?"

She bites her bottom lip. "I don't know. I thought it was because of stress."

I lean back against my chair and avert my gaze for a moment. Then, meeting her eyes, I smile stunned. Holy shit. "That's, well, wow…" I think about what we were doing two months back, then, "The cabin?"

She shrugs. "Maybe."

"Have you taken a test?"

Hailey shakes her head. "I didn't want to face the finality of that." She inhales and says, "We've also never talked about kids, and this seems like the worst possible moment." She sighs, "So you ready? We have to get going."

I watch walk out of our kitchen as if she hadn't just flipped my world upside down.

About an hour later, after we are settled at work and debriefed on the new case, after I've had a moment to digest the fact that Hailey might me carrying my child, I walk into a pharmacy and buy a pregnancy test. I return to the pen, and when everyone's has dispersed and it's just us, I place the small package on her desk.

She looks at the box, then at me. "Really? You want to do this now?"

"Why not? We need to know," I say.

Unlike her, I can't just put this in the back burner, squeezed between other mundane life occurrences. It's too big. Too important.

We go into the women's bathroom and lock the door. "I guess I just pee on this for three seconds and then we wait five minutes?"

"It says the results should appear within two, but no longer than five. One line means no. Two lines means yes."

"We can use the timer on the phone," she says.

"Well, what about when you're peeing on it?"

She laughs. "Jay, I can count three seconds."

"Make sure you count one-one-thousand two-one—"

"Do you want to come in with me and count?"

There was so much nervous sarcasm in her voice, I hesitant answering. "No." I shake my head. "I will wait here."

She beans me an anxious smile and goes into the bathroom stall. Moments later I hear the toilet flush and Hailey exists holding the test. I study her facial expression and body language. "Hey, whatever that test says, I'm here. You are not alone, okay?"

She looks at me and nods.

I smile and take her hand. "Everything is going to be fine."

I take the test from her jittery fingers and look to see if any lines have appeared, and there's one dark line on the test window. If another line is going to appear, it is taking its time. I set the timer for five minutes and set the wand on the sink.

We hover over it, both staring, waiting for any sign of a second line to appear - any hair of pink to crease down the test strip. Hailey takes her eyes away only to look at the timer.

"The instruction said that most results appear within two minutes. It's been three," she says, anxiety beginning to lace her voice.

"It said five minutes to get one hundred percent accurate results."

We stare some more. The only thing that changes is the control line, which becomes so dark it looks red. But then slowly, _very _slowly, the second line comes to life in the white rectangle of the pregnancy test. At five minutes, Hailey and I are staring at two, solid pink lines on the pregnancy test.

"Oh my God," she says. "This can't be happening," Hailey mutters mostly to herself.

I continue to stare at the double lines for a few seconds. I'm at a loss for words. I pull Hailey to me and cup her face in my hands, kissing her. I taste tears on our lips, though I don't know if they were hers or mine.

"This is really sudden, Jay." Her voice cracks.

"We'll figure it out. We have time. We don't have to decide anything right this second."

"I'm not ready..."

Tears slide freely down her cheeks, and I can see how scared she is. I gently pull Hailey towards me, wrapping my arms around her. I'm also scared shitless, but I speak softly into her ear, "Hailey, we'll figure it out, okay?" Her arms tighten around me. "Me and you. Together. I promise. We'll figure it out. That's what everyone else does. We'll find a way," I say, though I have no idea what to do. Not only do I not know what to do, but I barely know what else to say except for, "I love you."

* * *

**Thank you for reading. I wrote this a while ago and never posted because I didn't know this where I wanted to take this fic, but then I said, 'what the hell.' Let me know what you guys think. It will help me gage interest and determine how to proceed. Again, thank you for all your support thus far. Having this community means a lot, especially during these crazy times. Stay safe everyone. **


	21. Chapter 21

**Hailey's POV **

Jay and I are in the rig waiting for my CI to call. I can feel his eyes on me, watching me from the driver's seat; the same way he has been watching me for the past couple of weeks since we found out I'm cooking his kid. The more my mind tries to wrap around this, the more surreal it feels. There is a baby the size of a medium olive inside of me. I feel excited, nervous, scared, and thrilled. It's all rolled up into a giant ball of happy anxiety in my belly. Is happy anxiety even a thing?

"Got anything for me, Richie?" I answer my phone. Richie is an eighteen-year old informant from Englewood, trying to work off his case. "It better be good."

"It is. You know that guy you're looking for? The one who you got down for those robberies?"

"What about him?"

"I just saw him get in a car and drive off."

"What is he driving? Did you get the plate?"

"Black Dodge Charger. 76HFT7."

"I hope you're not giving me the run around, Richie."

"I'm not. I promise. Look, I don't want this guy to think I snitched. He will go off on me if he thinks I had anything to do with this. Everyone on the street knows how edgy he is. Nobody ever crosses him. He's like a loose cannon."

"You don't have to worry about that. Go home Richie, and stay there." I hang up the phone. "Richie got Brenden's tags. We need to put a BOLO out on his car. It looks like he on the move. "

We summon the team and drive to a neighborhood the suspect is known to hit. Jay backs the car into an apartment complex driveway to wait. The tree hedges give us a vantage point, but allows us to be hidden from passing traffic. It's a quiet afternoon, even with the windows down.

"I think we should take the long eye on this one," Jay suggests. "Brenden will be packing heavy and Atwater and Ruz are two blocks away anyway."

"The intel came from my CI, Jay. I can't take the long eye." I sigh. I know he is trying to protect me - us. "We'll be careful. Like we always are," I tell him. "This guy won't get the jump on us."

Sure enough, within minutes, the Dodge Charger drives directly past us through the dense residential area made up of mostly multi-story apartment complexes. Brenden is probably casing the houses. Jay pulls behind the vehicle at a stop sign.

"5021 Henry, advise responding units that the vehicle in question has been confirmed, offender in the car. Pursuing in cover vehicle," I say into the radio.

"Copy that, 5021 Henry."

"Set up for take away?" Jay asks into his radio.

After a beat, Voight's gravelly voice comes through. "Take him. Everyone stand by."

Jay activates the lights and sounds the siren. Traffic stops are tricky, my only hope is that we won't have to initiate a chase through this residential area.

"Looks like he's pulling over," I say.

The car stops at a red light, but then accelerates, driving into the opposing eastbound lanes. Jay radios that we are in pursuit as we screech around a corner. The Charger continues eastbound at high speeds, pulling out of the opposing traffic lanes. Ruzek and Atwater have the next intersection blocked, giving the driver no options. As a result, he turns into a gas station narrowly avoiding a tanker truck and crashing into a telephone pole. The pole bends at a 45-degreen angle, and mangled wires dangle from it. I call an ambo, thinking this guy is severely injured.

"He's crawling over the right front passenger seat," Jay shouts. "Hailey, stay here. Okay?"

"No way. You don't have back up." I shut off my brain, take my gun from the holster, and go after the suspect who is momentarily out of view, obstructed by a row of vehicles. I run down the middle of the street and Jay follows on the sidewalk as we attempt to box him.

"Move! Go back inside," I yell to the people walking the street. I call for back up, but I have yet to see uniforms. Jay runs ahead and in the heat of the chase I lose sight of him. I run in his direction, but then I hear Brenden, moving slowly behind a gated area several feet from me. My adrenaline kicks into overdrive. I jump the wall into the adjoining complex and scream at him. "GET ON THE GROUND! NOW!"

He does just the opposite. He lunges at me and we collide, me falling to the ground with the weight of him on me. A fear wakes up in me then. It crawls from the pit of my stomach, and uncurl itself. I struggle beneath him, trying to stand up, but his reactions are quicker than mine. When he goes for my gun, a surge of energy hits me. I strike him on the head and the blow makes him stagger back. This allows me to pull away from him.

Then Jay appears, gun cocked. "DON'T MOVE! STAY DOWN ON THE GROUND!"

My heart's galloping like a race horse. My breathing's erratic. I watch Jay handcuff Brenden just as responding officers come to a screeching skid in front of our location and takes over the arrest. Then Jay's hands are everywhere, checking me over, making sure I'm not injured. "Hailey, are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"I-I think…" Looking down, I discover my jacket and hands are covered in blood from Brenden's bleeding scalp. "I-I'm okay. I-It's not my blood. I'm okay."

"God, Hailey. You could've…" he lets the sentence go unfinished. "We need to get you checked out."

"I feel fine, okay?"

"Hailey," He pauses, considering his words carefully since we are surrounded by patrolmen. "Humor me, please?" I can see he is genuinely concerned. "I can call Will and he can arrange for us to be in and out," he says, his eyes pleading.

I nod my head. "Okay."

He closes his eyes briefly, and sighs. "Good. Let's go."

x

"Everything looks good, Hailey," Dr. Asher says. "Placenta is intact, baby is healthy, and measuring right at ten weeks."

"Are you sure?" Jay chines in. My heart softens when I hear the anxious tone in his voice. I can see he is trying to keep his emotions in check. "I saw her take a nasty fall. A guy twice her size landed nearly on top of her."

"I can assure you that all is good, Jay. At this stage in the pregnancy, the uterus sits low in the pelvis and is well protected. A fall is unlikely to hurt the baby. Now, as the baby grows bigger that's no longer the case. So Hailey, I will need you to be more careful. Maybe stay away from the action." Dr. Asher suggest with a smile.

I nod. "Will do. Thank you, Doctor."

"Yes, thank you, Dr. Asher," Jay says.

"Of course. I will leave your discharge papers with the nurse."

Dr. Asher leaves and I lack the energy to do anything more than sit quietly. But Jay can't seem to stop touching me, lightly rubbing my knee, holding my hand, or kissing my hair. I look up at his face. I can see the lines of worry around his eyes.

"Hey…" I take his hand in mine. "You heard her, we're okay."

He hesitates for a moment, and when he speaks his voice isn't much above a whisper. "It was just scary; you know? One moment we're chasing the guy, the next he is on top of you reaching for your gun."

"I know."

We don't speak for several minutes, but eventually Jay clears his throat, breaking the silence, "How about we go home," he suggests.

"Yeah, that's a good idea," I say.

We drive in silence. It's nearly dark outside and the breeze has chilled a few degrees. Sitting in the passenger seat, with my head pressed against the cold, smooth window, I stare at the streets, my mind scattered with a million scenarios. When we finally get home, I feel sort of weighted down – exhausted; limbs loose and joints feeling as if they might come apart at the seams. Maybe my body is just sore, or maybe the gravity of today's events is finally sinking in. I was so selfish.

Jay is watching me again. I know he can see right through me, right into me; he can see all the little nooks I conceal from everyone else. "You good?" he asks.

"Not really." He nods, either in understanding or for me to continue. I add, "Long day."

"Want to call it a night?" Though Jay smiles, there are still lines of strain around his mouth.

I give him a barely perceptible shrug, then a nod. "Yeah."

He kisses my hair, my shoulder. I close my eyes, allowing myself to get lost his tenderness. I know he wants to say more but is holding back. It isn't until later that night in bed when he snuggles close against my back, running his hands across my stomach that we finally address the elephant in the room (or the medium-sized olive in my belly).

"Hailey…"

"Look, I know messed up. I was selfish. I should've listened to you and stayed in the car." I sigh. "I'm still trying to wrap my head around everything, okay?" I tell him softly.

After a silent beat, he asks, "You scared?"

I take a deep breath and close my eyes. "I'm scared that everything I've worked so hard for will be taken away from me." The words pouring out from between my lips, not giving myself the chance to overthink them. "I'm scared that with everything changing so fast my head won't be able to keep up."

I hear him take a deep breath. "I get that everything is changing really fast, but nothing will be taken from you. You'll have to take a back seat temporarily, but you're still a valuable member of the team. You have to know that. On the street or behind a desk, you're still Hailey Upton. The most badass cop I know," he says, placing his lips against my neck.

Turning back to face him, I slowly open my eyes to see him looking into mine. It's true what they say in romance novels, the world around you can truly vanish.

"I know you're doing this part alone, but I'm here for you." Jay continues, reaching up to cup my face with his hand. "I will even take a desk job with you. Stop drinking. Whatever it takes. We are in this together."

The raw sincerity in his voice makes my eyes fill with emotional tears. "Hormones," I sniff. "Are _you_ scared?" I ask.

"Terrified." His hand goes rigid on my belly. "I'm scared I will end up like my father," he admits quietly.

"Not possible," I say without hesitation. "Jay, you're the best person. The single reason why I'm not completely freaking out is because we're doing this together."

Jay smiles and leans to kisses me. I open my mouth slightly and press my lips to his. His hands slides to my lower back and pulls me against him. I kiss him just under his jaw line, and then just under his ear. He curls around me slightly. Then suddenly he rolls us so that I'm on my back with himself on top of me. He holds himself up so that his chest just barely touches mine.

We let the passion build slowly, unhurriedly, before we make love. It is all so easy and unforced. No wonder I got pregnant. He lights a fire inside me and fans the flames. We know the power we have over each other and we unashamedly give ourselves over to it, whether shyly or lustfully or playfully. And in this perfect, magical world, we are isolated and liberated and safe - the only place where I feel I truly am.

"Are you happy?" I ask.

"I'm." Jay smiles and wraps an arm around me, allowing me to rest my head in the crook of his shoulder. "I'm happy and scared and excited and nervous."

I chuckle. "My feelings exactly." I look up and lock eyes with him for a few seconds before I ask, "We'll be okay, right?"

"Definitely," he states. "This kid is already a legend."

"Oh, yeah? How so?" Jay is trying to suppress his laughter, but I can feel his body shaking and his eyes sparkling with mirth. "What?"

"The kid knows no barriers. Think about it, if contraception couldn't hold him or her back, nothing will."

"Ha-ha, real funny." I roll my eyes and snuggle against his warm skin. I can feel his muscles ripple as he settles himself and that's the last thing I think before I fall asleep. We'll be okay, and I know that's the truth. Despite how much my mind is playing catch up right now; I know with Jay I'll be okay.

**Jay's POV**

Just as Hailey and I are getting ready in the morning, I hear a knock at the front door. I go to answer it, and it's none other than my brother.

"Hey, come in," I open the door, and we greet each other with a quick hug. "Did you just get off shift?"

"Yeah. Worked overnight…I thought I would just drop by on my way home," he says, though I hardly believe that.

"You decided to just _drop by_?"

"Yeah, I was in the neighborhood. I also wanted to check on Hailey since I wasn't there when you guys were in. You sounded worried when you called."

I eye him suspiciously. Does he know? "I was worried," I tell him truthfully. "But she's good. Thank you for calling in a favor."

"No problem. Anything for my future sister. Is she here?"

"Yeah, she's in the shower," I tell him.

Will stands there with a stupid smile plastered on his face, which he is not even trying to hide. He knows.

"Just say it." I tell him.

"Say what?"

"Whatever you came here to say."

Will runs his fingers through that red mop on his head and says, "I, um, I looked through Hailey's ER charts, just to check if everything was okay, but then I saw that Dr. Asher was called in for a counsel."

"Yeah, so what?"

"Well, Dr. Asher is an OB-GYN." He pauses, looking at me expectedly.

I roll my eyes and nod, confirming his suspicious. "You nosy bastard!"

Will pulls me in a hug, nearly squeezing the life out of me. "Holy shit, man! You're going to be a dad?"

"Looks that way."

"How far along is she?"

"10 weeks."

"Still early—"

"Which is why we aren't telling anyone, Will."

He runs a finger across his lips in a zipping gesture. "My lips are sealed."

Hailey chooses that moment to walk into the living room. She looks beautiful standing there, fresh out of the shower, hair damp, cheeks pink. "Hey, Will," she says, her voice wary.

"Hey _sis_," he says, with a strategic inflexion on the word, _sis_. He thinks he is so clever.

Hailey senses something's off and looks to me with her brow furrowed. "He knows," I explain.

"Ah –"

"Congratulations!" Will says, also pulling Hailey into a tight hug. "Can't believe I'm going to be an uncle! Uncle Will – it has a good ring to it, right?"

"It sure does," Hailey says.

"We are not telling anyone, yet," I remind him. "So, you need to keep your mouth shut."

"You don't have to worry about that."

Will is still smiling really big, and it seems contagious because we are all smiling like idiots now.

"I won't keep you guys, just wanted to come and be in your little secret."

"Thanks for stopping by, Will." Hailey says sweetly. Her smile is bright and wide, and makes my breath catch in my lungs.

I walk to where she is standing and circle an arm around her shoulder. "Keep your mouth shut, Will."

"Don't worry. Let me know if you guys need anything."

Will shows himself out and I chuckle and kiss Hailey's forehead, breathing her in. "Sorry about that. I know you wanted to keep it between us for a little while longer," I say.

She leans in and nestles her cheek on my chest. "Did he look at my charts?" When I nod and she says, "It's okay. I think it's endearing."

I raise an eyebrow, giving her a skeptical look. "Endearing? I'm pretty sure he just committed a federal crime by prying into your medical records."

Her eyes light up with a mischievous smile. "Don't worry. We'll use it as blackmail when we need a sitter."

"I like the way you think."

Amazing. She is so amazing.

* * *

**Thank you for reading and for your reviews on the last chapter. We'll continue to explore how Jay and Hailey navigate this new phase in their lives. Hope everyone is safe and healthy. #BLM Cheers! **


	22. Chapter 22

**Hailey's POV **

I wake up just as the sun eases its way into the room, first glimmer along the one windowsill, then a growing streamer of light over the floor. I roll on my back and groan. For the past couple of weeks morning sickness has been kicking my butt –_ day and night_. I drag myself out of bed and run to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before the first wave of heaves – locking every muscles – making me feel like my body is going to turn inside out. I sit on the floor with my head resting on my knees, as I wait for the miserable feeling to pass.

"Hailey?" I hear from the other side of the door. Jay's voice holds a residual bit of sleepiness in it, making it deeper than usual. "I'm coming in, okay?" I watch him open the door, first seeing his bare feet appear. I look up and he is carrying a glass of water and an ice pack, as he's been doing every morning when nausea hits me. He sits down beside me, putting the ice pack on the back of my neck, soothing the heat the blazes there, causing beads of sweat to pop up on my neck and face.

"Are you okay?" He asks rubbing my back, looking at me with deep concern.

"Never better."

The words are barely out of my mouth when another wave hits me, and I lunge for the toilet again. How can something so small make me feel like I want to die?

Jay strokes the side of my clammy face, pulling my hair back before getting up to get a hair clip to hold it back out of the toilet. After the wave of nausea passes, I lean back against him, as he wipes the sweat away from my face with a cool rag. "Do you want me to call Voight and tell him you won't be in today?"

"_No_, you aren't keeping me from work that easy," I pant between gags and heaves.

We haven't come clean to Voight yet, and Jay isn't happy about it. In my defense, I'm being safe and staying away from any action without raising suspicion. I promised him I would tell everyone at the end of my first trimester, which to his contentment is today.

"Good thing you have an appointment today," he says. "You haven't been able to keep anything down for over a week now."

"Apparently this normal," I remind him.

"I know." Jay touches my cheek and runs his fingertips across my skin. "Do you think you can get up?

I nod.

"Come on, let's get you off the floor." He gathers me into his arms and slowly lifts me to a standing position. For a moment I wobble like a drunken party girl in four-inch heels. "You good? You're not going to pass out on me are you?" He looks searchingly at my face.

"No," I assure him. "I'm better."

"Okay. I'm going to make you some tea. That seemed to settle your stomach last time."

Jay plants a kiss on my forehead and leaves. I splash cold water on my face, lean over the sink, and draw in long, slow breaths in the hopes of controlling the rocking and rolling going on in my stomach. I look at myself in the mirror and laugh. Thanks to the round-the clock nausea, the _pregnancy glow _emitting from my face has a greenish hue of radioactive waste.

After a cup of chamomile tea and a half dozen popsicles, the only thing I can stomach, I manage to get myself ready for the day.

"You look beautiful," Jay says, kissing the tip of my nose, then my lips ever so lightly. "We better get going before we are late to your appointment. You good?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Let's do this."

x

"Hailey Upton?" Lisa, Dr. Asher's nurse, stands at the door to the waiting area. Dressed in pink flowered scrubs, she is a beacon of cheer in this drab room. She smiles and motions to Jay and I. "Come on back."

We rise to follow the slender woman down a long, wide hallway. A few open doors give glimpses into examination rooms. The sharp, not unpleasant smell of disinfectant and alcohol teases my nose.

"Sorry about the wait," Lisa apologizes cheerfully as she leads us to the end of the hall. Turning left, she stops in front of a set of doors across from a darkened room filled with equipment. "We got backed up in the ultrasound room this morning and we've just starting to catch up."

"No worries," I tell her. "We didn't wait long."

She opens the door to an examination room. Inside, against the far wall, is a bench with a fold of blue cotton. "Put the gown on with the ties in the front, and wrap the other cloth around your waist. "I will be right back to take your vitals."

I change into the funny looking gown and a few minutes later Lisa comes back and checks my blood pressure, weight, and gives me a cup to pee in. A few minutes later Dr. Asher walks in the examination room, smiling. "Good afternoon, you two."

"Hello, Dr. Asher," we both say.

"How are you doing today?"

"Well, Doctor, Hailey has been constantly throwing up," Jay answers for me. The guy is worried.

"I see from looking over your chart that you have lost a little weight. Although weight loss is common, I want you to keep trying to eat, even when you don't want to. You need make sure your body gets the nutrients it needs."

"What about the baby?" Jay chimes in again before I get the chance.

"Well, the baby will take what it needs from mom. That's why it's important for mom to take care of herself. "

"I will make sure of that," Jay reassures the doctor, giving my knee a gentle squeeze.

Every day I get a small glimpse of Jay as a dad. He is taking all of the doctor's comments, obviously memorizing them with a determined expression which I think is adorable.

Dr. Asher gives me a hard look and adds, "And I hope you're staying safe, Hailey. No more chasing bad guys."

"I'm being safe. I promise."

Dr. Asher smiles approvingly. "Climb on up here. Let's have a look at the little one."

"Will the baby even show up?" I ask. I'm not showing. No sign of a baby bump yet.

"I don't see why not. These ultrasound machines should pick up the baby even if it's the size of a button."

I climb onto the padded table and lay back on the inclined rest. "A little cold," the doctor warns and I flinch when she squirts the cold gel on my belly. Jay takes my hand in his and gently rubs his thumbs across my skin. I can feel him get a little tense, a little excited.

The doctor places a wand over my belly and begins to move it back and forth across my abdomen. I hold very still, but I reckon the baby can't be happy with all this prodding. Then a static sound fills the room. It sounds faint at first, just like nothing, and then all of a sudden it grows strong. It blips loud and clear. _Thump-a. Thump-a. Thump-a. Thump-a._

"Is that…?" I ask.

Dr. Asher tilts her head and smiles. "That's your baby's heartbeat."

My baby's heartbeat. It's the sweetest, most beautiful sound I've ever heard in my entire life. I listen hard to the rhythm, trying to memorize it, trying to empty everything else in my head so that I can hold only to this sound.

"T-That's fast," Jay notes.

"It's a nice strong heartbeat. Very, very healthy."

Dr. Asher leaves the wand in place while she counts the beats and then moves it away. She turns a few knobs and pushes a few buttons, while moving the wand on my stomach. She turns the monitor in our direction, circling the pointer on the screen. "There it is. "

At first all I can see are fuzzy white pixels against black, like an unfocused photograph of outer space. But then a grey mass appears on the screen and slowly I begin to make-out the perfect silhouette of our baby.

"Looks like you're measuring perfectly at twelve weeks," she says. "The arms and legs," she explains, pointing. "Good spine and the heart is developing very well."

Words cannot explain how I am feeling inside; the joy, the happiness in me is very overwhelming. I raise the back of my hand to my mouth and exhale in awe. "That's a baby," I mumble, with a smile that can hardly be wiped off my face. But never mind me, or how I feel. Out of the corner of my eye I see Jay completely dumbfounded. Euphoria spills out of him, a laugh, a smile – and then our eyes meet, misty, both of us sort of overcome with something deeper than excitement.

Jay hugs me and I feel the world tilt. We both stare at the tiny silhouette on the screen, unable to take out eyes off it. He leans right over my belly, which is glistening with that clear gel smear, and says, "Holy shit, Hailey." He chuckles, his throat tight with emotion. "There's a real baby in there."

He kisses me, lingering a little longer than is appropriate. I sniff and wipe the tears from my face. "Yes," I agree, like we just had a clear meeting of the minds.

This might not be what either of us envisioned for the immediate future, but it is the reality.

I'm going to be a mom.

**Jay's POV **

We leave the doctor's office and Hailey sits in the passenger seat in a trance-like state of shock. I am overjoyed, excited and a bit shocked too. Seeing our baby today gave me the biggest adrenaline rush of my life, and that's saying something. I take my eyes off the road for a second to look at her. "Are you okay?"

"A little shell-shocked," she confesses. Despite her shock, a beautiful slow smile spreads across Hailey's face. God, I hope our kid has her smile. "There is a human growing in here. Obviously, I've known this, but it just became real, _real_."

"It's pretty mind blowing." I bring her fingers to my lips and kiss her knuckles. "We need to tell Voight," I remind her. I just want Hailey and the baby to be as safe, and the longer we wait, the risker it is.

"We will," she promises. "We can tell him as soon as we get to work."

However, on the way to the district we are called to do to a search warrant at a warehouse. Despite this being a routine task, I can't help but worry. Ever since we've found out, I can't get my head in the game when she's around because her and the baby take up all the space.

After we are debriefed on the operation, I pull our Kevlar vest from the trunk and help her put it on. "Stay back, okay?" I tell her. "If something—"

"—Nothing's going to happen." Her palm comes up to rest on my chest. "The place looks empty. I will be okay."

We get in formation by the entrance, while Hailey and Kim go around the back. We announce our office, and when there's no response, Voight commands, "Take it off the hinges," and Kevin breaks through the door. We quickly spread around the warehouse clearing the space. It seems deserted. Empty shelves add to the vacant, lifeless, abandoned ambiance of the place. As we inch further inside, we are met with nothing but silence –the entire floor is basically empty save for some broken up work areas along the walls.

"What are we looking for?" Ruzek calls out.

"This is supposed to be a stash house," Rojas replies. "My CI saw major activity coming in and out of here."

"If they were here, it looks like they cleaned house," I gather. "Maybe someone tipped them off." I go to the back exit and open the door to let Hailey and Kim in, then suddenly the sound of gunfire explodes inside. I instinctively push Hailey back out the door and shut it, locking them both out of the warehouse.

Luckily, the shooting ends as quickly as it started. The offenders are apprehended and the drugs are located and seized. Needless to say, Kim is angry with me, and rightly so. From her standpoint, I made a very reckless call, but one I don't regret for a second. I made the decision I needed to make, and I would do the same again. No remorse, or regret. If I could have done it differently, I would have. But this was the only way to keep Hailey safe.

Back at the district I hear Kim going at it with Hailey in the locker room. I take a deep breath and step inside, bracing for impact. Kim turns to me, anger flaring in her eyes. "What the hell was that?" Kim asks. If she was angry before; she is fuming now. "You put the whole team in danger by locking us out of that warehouse!"

I shut the locker room door and lean against the frame. Kim watches me, waiting for an answer. "Look I know I was out of line. It's just…" I hesitate telling her the truth. "I acted on instinct to protect Hailey. She's—"

Kim stifles a scoff. "I shouldn't have to remind you to keep your personal life out of the job! You're lucky nothing—"

"Kim, Hailey is pregnant. I heard the gunshots and didn't think. Just acted. I'm sorry."

Kim looks between Hailey and I in shock. She doesn't say anything, just looks at us, her gaze roving over our faces, searching for what, I don't know. But slowly her anger seems to drain. "You serious?"

"Twelve weeks," Hailey says, her voice low and controlled. "We haven't told anyone, except for Will."

"Look Kim, we didn't think things were going down the way they did today. Had we known, Hailey wouldn't have been there."

Kim opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.

"Don't worry," Hailey adds, "We are telling Voight. What happened today, won't happen again."

"Uh, yeah, I get it." Kim finally finds her voice. She smiles, but there is a sadness there. "Congratulations, guys." She stands there for a quick second, then adds, "I got some paper work I have to do," before she beelines out the door.

"Kim," Hailey calls after her, but it's no use.

Hailey plops down on a bench and I join her, an uneasy feeling lingers heavy in the air.

"I didn't want her to find out like this," Hailey sighs. "Out of everyone, Kim was the last person to ambush with this news. It wouldn't be a bad idea for you to tell Ruzek."

"Yeah." I reach over and put my arms around her, pulling her to me. I kiss her hair, breathing in her scent. "I didn't understand their loss," I whisper, feeling my chest tighten. I gulp down a lump in my throat and say, "I do now."

Hailey leans her head my shoulder. "So," she says, her voice small. "What do we do now?"

"We tell Voight."

She sighs. "Okay, let's get it over with it."

**Hailey's POV **

I find Kim later that night sitting alone at Molly's, nursing a half-empty bottle. I take the vacant seat next to her and when the bartender comes over I ask for an ice water and a glass of whiskey for her.

She turns to me with a raised eyebrow. "Whiskey?"

"We always have good talks over whiskey," I say.

She smiles, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

The bartender returns minutes later with our drinks. We sit in silence and in the background, plates clatter, voices rise and fall, and occasional laughter breaks out and around the small bar. I actually don't know what to say. Every sentence I formulate in my head seems empty and self-serving. The truth is that there aren't words that can ever ease Kim's loss.

"We told Voight," I begin. "He was surprisingly supportive. I'm behind a desk now, effective immediately."

"It's not that bad," she says, staring down at her fingers, which are laced together. "You'll miss the action, for sure, but your priorities shift – and it already has. You weren't even phased when Jay shut that door today. You didn't want to be inside that warehouse."

"Yeah," I nod. "I'm still trying to wrap my head around everything. But the exhaustion and the constant puking hasn't help the process."

Kim chuckles. "Yeah. The term morning sickness is very deceptive."

"Right? It should be all day sickness," I sigh. "It sort started late in my first trimester, but hopefully it should wane now that I entered my second."

"It didn't for me, just a heads up."

"Ugh," I groan and lower my head on the bar.

"You know what helped me? Peanut butter. A spoonful always settled my stomach. But not the cheap kind. The organic one with all the frills."

"Thanks. I will keep that in mind."

After a beat Kim says, "How's Jay handling this?"

"Well, you saw what happened today. _That's_ how he is handling it."

Kim smiles knowingly. "Yeah, I know how that goes. Adam actually proposed to me."

Adam is a solid guy, loyal to a fault, sometimes to the point of fault. He would want to do right by Kim. "I'm not surprised."

Kim takes a sip from her cup and nods. "Adam's parents aren't together and I think he didn't want that for his kid." She sighs and runs a hand over her hair. "But it wasn't meant to be, so..."

Her voice falters – the pain is still there, still raw. I know firsthand that time doesn't heal wounds. At best, time can dull memories, but will not heal anything. "I'm sorry, Kim," I offer wholeheartedly. "And I'm sorry we dropped this on you today. We didn't mean to ambush you."

She shakes her head dismissively. "It's okay. I'm really happy for you and Jay. You guys have been through a lot in the past year. It's only fitting that you guys catch a break."

I smile. "Thank you. It means a lot."

Kim raises her glass and I raise mine. "To Intelligence's newest recruit."

I smile. "To Intelligence's newest recruit."

* * *

**Thank for reading. Sort of slowly taking Hailey and Jay through the nuts and bolts of parenthood. Hope everyone is safe and healthy. Cheers, D. **


	23. Chapter 23

**Rated [M] **

**Hailey's POV **

I stand in front of the full-length mirror in my underwear, looking at the odd shape my body has taken on. My breasts are spilling over the tops of my bra and I have a potbelly – like I indulged in one too many burritos. I'm not sure if it's my imagination, but even my hips and thighs are starting to look a little wider.

Jay enters the bathroom behind me and drapes his arms around my waist. Slowly he slides his hands down, caressing the sloping contours of my bare belly. My body instantly responds to his touch. It sends shivers up my spine as well as trillions of nicely chilling goosebumps all over my body. These pregnancy hormones are doing a number on me; I'm certain of that. I do nothing but _feel_ \- all the time. A little fact that really hasn't bothered Jay one bit.

I make the mistake of looking into his eyes – they're sleepy and seductive, but also… they look warm and happy, and he's got a goofy smile on his face. God, it makes me want to kiss him.

"Still looking for that pregnancy glow?" Jay asks, sort of mockingly. I roll my eyes and he nudges me playfully. "You're practically a neon sign."

"Stop it." I sigh and turn sideways towards the mirror. "I will be glad when I look truly pregnant."

"You have a clear bump there. Don't you?" Jay asks warily. The guy is no fool, and he obviously doesn't want to say the wrong thing here.

"Starting to, yes, but that's the problem. People who know I'm pregnant see a baby bump. Most of the world looks at me and think I've been eating a few too many burritos."

Jay laughs and plants a kiss on my hair, his hands coming to rest on my midsection. "I think you look beautiful."

"You have to say that – otherwise you'll have to spend the day listening to the grievances of a highly emotional pregnant woman," I mutter with a sigh. "We'll see if you still think that when I'm the size of a house."

"I can't think of anything more beautiful." He bends down and kisses my baby bump, making me weak in the knees. I run my fingers through his hair and down his shoulders, feeling the muscles underneath his warm skin. Immediately my heart picks up the pace, thumping against my ribs. _Pull yourself together_, I admonish myself.

"I'm going start breakfast," he says.

"Yeah, you go do that." I smack his butt as he squeezes past me on his way out.

I take my time coming downstairs – washing my face, brushing my teeth, and putting my crazy hair in a ponytail. I wrap myself in a cozy robe and make my way over to the kitchen. I find Jay standing by the stove wearing nothing but these butt-hugging boxer briefs, that outlines his perfect ass. His hair is mussy – courtesy of my fingers – and when he hears me, he turns slightly to give me a wink and a grin. Mmmm. God, these pregnancy hormones are making me senseless.

"I'm making pancakes," he says. "I thought that since your nausea subsided, we could try eating a real breakfast for a change."

"It smells delicious," I say, licking my lips.

"How many pancakes do you want?" he asks as he mans a griddle he'd just dropped butter on. A bowl of batter sits next to it.

"Two," I reply.

Jay moves past me, brushing his body innocently against me. He smells so good – the same way he always has. Something like soap and shaving cream, maybe a little toothpaste, mingled with a masculine undertone that is uniquely him. His hands settle on my hips, and he squeezes affectionately. It's a brief touch before he grabs a spatula from a drawer and slides back to the griddle, but it is enough to make every inch of my skin tingle with awareness.

He feels me watching him because his eyes spare me a glace before pouring six perfect pancake circles on the hot griddle. "What?"

"Nothing," I say. But Jay stares knowingly at me; he looks smug, as if he understands my blush.

He turns off the griddle and walks toward me, eyeing me up and down. His proximity makes me shiver and once again and I feel goosebumps rise on my sensitive skin. His grin widens.

"Come here." His low husky voice sends a chill down my spine.

He pulls me into his arms and kisses me. His mouth then travels down my neck and I am already having trouble keeping my breathing steady. He lifts me up and sets me carefully on the kitchen island. He loosens the belt on my robe and slides a hand over my rounded belly, traveling down the slope of the baby bump and farther to caress me intimately. When his fingers touch me, a painful thrilling spasm shoots through me with the speed and sense of an electric shock.

"You're so wet," he says surprised.

I want to laugh. But then I can only groan as he removes my bra and licks and nips the tender skin there. Every touch sets off fireworks in my body, and I arch my back at the twin sensation of his mouth and fingers working me. My soft moans turn into whimpers, and my body tightens with its impeding climax. I bite my lip, trying to not scream out because everything feels excruciatingly wonderful.

"Please, Jay," I beg for release.

"Not yet." He gently shifts my underwear down my hips and I feel his other hand grip one of my thighs as he pries my legs apart. "I need a taste of you first."

That is all the warning I get before his lips clamp on me, and it is more than I can take. I tip my head back, coming unglued as he continues to drive me crazy with his tongue. He laps at me like he can't get enough. He builds up the pleasure bit by bit, paying attention to each of my responses. Everything coalesces, and then I'm gone. His mouth stays on me, making little delighted noises that makes everything that much sweeter. I'm limp on the kitchen island, twitching with aftershocks.

I look at him and blush when I see him licking his lips. He smirks, pleased at watching me lose all higher brain function.

"You good?" he asks, with a happy smile. When I nod, he moves between my legs and enters me, slowly, kissing me as he goes. He is being careful, checking all my reactions. He stops at full entry, kissing the top of my head. "Still good, babe?"

I nod and he starts a simple rhythm, moving his hand to cup my butt to positon us better. He is so gentle, but gentle or not, I'm overly sensitive and everything feels incredibly intense. He kisses the moans from my lips as he rocks back and slide home slowly – still gently. But eventually his pace increases, and soon enough my body erupts again and with a few more thrusts, I feel his release. I hold tightly to his arms, still moving with him, slowing while we try to catch our breaths.

"I will make you _pancakes_ for breakfast every day," he says, a little breathless. "For the rest of our lives."

I laugh and feel a little flutter inside my belly. Like butterflies. I've been feeling it a lot lately. "I think the baby is moving," I say and Jay stares at me for a moment before his eyes trail down to my stomach. "I don't think you can feel it yet."

He places his hand on my bump, his baby bump, and continues to stare at it with the biggest grin I'd ever seen on his face. "What do you feel?"

I close my eyes and murmur, "Like little tickles, or butterflies. Keep talking. Maybe the baby likes your voice."

"Do you like to hear me talk? Well, you're going to hear a lot of my voice for the rest of your life, kid."

I nod, and the tears stream down my face – damn hormones. Jay probably thinks I've lost all my senses, ricocheting like an emotional pinball off one mood into another. God, what's happening to me?

He runs his thumb along my cheek, wiping the fallen tears. "Happy tears?"

"So happy," I answer.

We kiss and I cry some more. The father of my child. My future husband. My everything. All of me, loves this man.

**Jay's POV **

Ruzek and I are stuck doing general surveillance today, which means spending time in a windowless van. The superintended dropped a drug case on our desks and we need solid evidence for a search warrant. We've been here for hours now; I've lost count on how many cups of coffee I've had, which isn't sitting so well in my stomach.

"We could be tapped into their mother's phone and we still won't be able to get anything," Ruzek says mildly irritated. "We've been sitting out here for hours and nothing!"

"They are careful, that's why they are good. Let's hope Kim and Rojas were able to get something on their end," I say, feeling just as frustrated. Today has been a total bust.

Ruzek sighs then after a beat, he asks, "So how's Hailey doing? The baby?"

"Good. She just had her eighteen-week appointment, which was crazy detailed, and everything was good."

Ruzek smiles. "That's pretty awesome, man. Do you know what you're having? Boy? Girl?"

"I wanted to find out, but Hailey didn't, and there was no way I was going to know by myself. So…. I don't know what we're having."

Ruzek chuckles and shakes his head. "Yeah, whatever they say goes. The only thing Kim and I had agreed on was that I was moving in." Vestiges of raw emotions that had been tucked away show in the faraway look in his eyes. "I should have a one-year-old right now, crazy right?"

"Yeah. Did you know what you were having?" I ask, straining to keep my tone light.

"Nah," he shakes his head. "Kim was only fifteen weeks when she lost the baby. But Kim is a planner, she would want to find out. She's not into surprises."

"Maybe I can get Kim to convince Hailey."

Ruzek chuckles. "You can certainly try."

We spend a few more hours in the van until Atwater calls, telling us Rojas and Kim actually got something. We gladly return to the district and when I go up to the pen, the first thing I see is Hailey. She is standing there, updating the board. Although her shirt is loose and untucked, the small baby bump is still very much noticeable.

One day, as if almost instantly, Hailey's belly popped and she had a full baby bump. She looks as though she stuffed a small ball under her blouse and if you pay close attention you can see her walking with a teeny waddle. I love it. I love skimming my hands over her sensitive skin, rediscovering the new curves she's developing. I feel like the luckiest man in the world, and regardless of what she thinks, she glows from the inside out.

She sees us coming and an automatic smile brightens up her face, making her look even more beautiful.

"So, what do we have?" I ask, sitting on the edge of my desk. "Cause Ruze and I got zilch."

"Vanessa and Kim are bringing in this girl," she points to a picture, "Mariela Martinez. They think she's one of Reggie's girl. They caught her trying to score."

"What do we know about her?" Ruzek asks.

"Not a whole lot," she says, and her left hand bushes fleetingly on the swell of her stomach. I bet she's feeling those butterflies again. "Mariela has been in and out of foster homes her entire life. Her rap sheet isn't that impressive – solicitation, shoplifting, minor drug charges."

"Do we have anything else on her?" Ruzek asks.

"Nothing substantial we can use to turn her, if that's what you're asking," Hailey says.

I sigh. "Let's hope they can talk her to flip on Reggie, otherwise we have nothing on him."

Vanessa and Kim return with Mariela. She looks young – too young. She can't be more than eighteen. The fear in her face gives it away. She also seems shell-shocked and fidgety; a sign her withdrawal hasn't fully set in yet.

"So what's the plan?" Voight asks, as we stare at this girl behind the two-way mirror.

"She's terrified," Rojas notes. "With a little push she might just give us what we want."

"Okay," Voight nods. "Push it."

We watch Kim and Rojas go at this girl for hours with no success. Turns out, she's too scared to talk, and in the rare occasion when she does speak, she stammers and chokes on her own words. But I don't get the feeling she's actively protecting Reggie.

"Now what?" Atwater asks.

"I think we're going at this girl the wrong way," Hailey begins. "She's clearly been abused. She is just scared what will happen to her when Reggie is out of the picture." Hailey's face takes on a melancholy expression I haven't seen in a while. "Let me talk to her. I think I have a way in."

Voight looks at Hailey, contemplating her request.

"This girl is not a threat," she adds. "I will be fine."

Voight looks around the pen and slowly nods his head. "If you think you have an angle, play it."

"I'll go in with you," I offer.

She places a hand on chest. "I think I need to do this alone."

Hailey walks into the interrogation room and Mariela looks at her anxiously, pulling her sleeves down over her hands.

"I'm Hailey," she says sweetly and takes a seat next to the young girl. "I thought you might be hungry, so I brought some food." Hailey reaches into the brown paper bag and pulls out two sandwiches and a water. "I didn't know if you preferred ham and cheese or tuna, so I brought both."

The girl eyes the food suspiciously, but doesn't reach for it.

After a beat of silence, Hailey jumps right in, "Reggie was probably the first guy who cared for you, right?" When you aged out he gave you a place to stay, food, clothes – things your own mother couldn't give you."

Mariela looks at Hailey, and after a few moments she finds her voice. "My mother was more interested on her next score than her own kids."

"And Reggie was there for you," Hailey affirms. "He's family, and you don't turn your back on family."

"You're damn right." Mariela's body stiffens. Her tone is level, but there is defiance in her face–a lifetime of defiance. "So go right ahead and charge me because I ain't talking."

Hailey sits back on her chair, formulating her next question. "When was the first time Reggie gave you blow?" Mariela scowls her face in disapproval of the question. "Look I've been a cop a long time. I can see you're going through withdrawal."

"I'm fine," Mariela says through gritted teeth.

"So tell me, at what point did he make you go down on him for your next fix?" Mariela's stunned expression tells Hailey she'd hit a nerve. "He forced you do things, even when you didn't want it. Then you convinced yourself it was love, despite how worthless it made you feel," Hailey pushes.

Mariela doesn't say anything, but she doesn't look away, either, so Hailey continues. "Reggie is not your family. He is a drug lord who got you hooked on dope so that he could use you."

"You don't know _anything_. If you did–"

"—I know, Mariela. I know guys like Reggie. That first time when you said no, and he raped you, he took something from you," Hailey says quietly, her tone shifting. "I know this because it was taken from me too."

Mariela straightens her shoulder and her eyes widen. On the other side of the mirror I bite the inside of my lip to keep from reacting.

"I know the guilt and humiliation," Hailey continues. "And it's worse at night, when everything is quiet and you feel that sick churning in your stomach, a panicky sensation in your chest…" Hailey lets her words sink in and Mariela swallows hard, a tear leaks from her right eye. "The memories make you paralyzed and you can't move, can't breathe. You feel so broken."

My heart hurts; the tight, aching squeeze unrelenting.

"Please, stop," Mariela sobs, her words garbled and muffled from behind her tear-drenched hands. "I don't want to hear it anymore."

Hailey's eyes swim with emotion, some of which I can't read. "This shame you're feeling right now is a trap. Please, let me help you," she begs.

Mariela shakes her head as if to ban the conflicting thoughts swarming her mind. "I-I can't—"

"—You can! Life doesn't have to be like this, Mariela. It can be good. You can be happy. Just Let us help you."

Hailey touches Mariela's shoulder and her face falls to her hands. She breaks down in tears. After a few moments, the young girl lifts her eyes up and nods. "What do you want to know?"

Hailey emerges from the interrogation room with more information on this drug lord than we know what do to with. But I can tell it came at a great cost – she looks exhausted, emotionally drained, but manages to give me smile.

"You are incredible; did you know that?" I push her hair out of her face and plant a chaste kiss on her lips – I don't care who sees it. "You okay?" I ask.

She nods, rubbing a hand absentmindedly over her belly. "Yeah. I'm good." She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "I need to go talk to Trudy to make sure Mariela is taken care of."

I point to her hand caressing her small bump. "Butterflies again?"

"Yeah," she smiles.

As she starts to leave, I reached out for her arm and pull her back to me. "Promise me you'll tell if things go dark in your head today."

She nods and takes my hand, squeezing it. "I'm good, but there's something you can help me with."

"Anything," I tell her.

A Blush warms her cheeks. She bites her lip and says. "I want _pancakes_ for dinner."

God, I love her.

* * *

**Thank you for reading! I appreciate every single one of your reviews. I will keep exploring different scenarios with them. If you guys have any requests, I can try to include it. (I've had people asking me to bring Lindsay back for a small chapter arc. What are your thoughts?) I hope everyone is staying safe out there. Cheers, D. **


	24. Chapter 24

**Jay's POV **

A crisp breeze blows Hailey's hair against her face and flattens her dress against her belly, which now has a full baby bump. She steps around the car and runs a hand over the evidence that our baby is growing. She doesn't realize it, but she's looking more beautiful than ever. I wish she could see herself through my eyes. So she could be blown away by how perfect her smile is, or by the adorable way the bridge of her nose scrunches and her eyes sparkle when she smiles.

"Nothing fits right." I hear her complain under her breath.

"You look great, babe," I assure her, though I know that's not what's bothering her. "What's up?"

Hailey bites back a sigh. "I'm starting to think that maybe this whole thing isn't a good idea."

"We can get right back in the car and go home. Your mom will understand," I say, but she remains quiet and continues to fuss with her dress. "Hails," I say trying to catch her attention but she still doesn't respond, "Hailey," I say again but this time I grab her shoulders. "Talk to me."

"Baby is kicking," she says softly, obviously deflecting. "Here…" She guides my hand over her belly to where she felt it kick. A moment later I feel a ripple under my hand, like a greeting. I felt the baby kick for the first time a week ago and it's been sort of mind-blowing every time. My fascination and sense of reverence will never diminish by repetition.

I feel another dull thump followed by a strong jab. "That's quiet sharp!"

She raises her eyebrow. "Tell me about it. The baby probably thinks this is a bad idea too."

Reaching for her hand, I enclose it within both of mine, wanting to offer her comfort. "It's okay if you are not ready. Just tell your mom you are feeling under the weather and reschedule lunch for another day." Hailey plops her forehead on my chest and I play with her hair, breathing in her scent. "There's no rush."

She tilts her head back so she can look up at me. "So, what you're telling me is that we should just go home, right?"

I run my hands up and down her arms. "Look, you know my dad and I weren't on the best terms while he was around, but If I could go back I would change that." Hailey continues to looks at me, considering, then nods. "Let's go inside?" I say, puffing my chest up. But in reality, I'm not sure if I'm ready to meet her parents either.

Meeting parents has a strange level of emotions attached to it, especially when relationships are strained. I'd be lying if I said I'm not nervous, but I want this for Hailey. Despite everything my dad did, if I was given the opportunity to reconcile with him, I would. In a heartbeat. Losing him so abruptly, left deep scars that I don't wish on my worst enemy.

We both take a deep breath and walk up to the front door. She rings the bell and moments later an older woman appears. She is short with graying hair and a big smile that reminds me of Hailey's. Almost instantly, tears flood the older woman's face. She quickly wipes her hand on her apron before pulling Hailey into a tight hug.

"Oh baby, look at you," she says, and pulls back with both hands resting on either side of Hailey's belly. "My first grandchild," she adds. "Somebody pinch me!"

The sound of her mother's words is Hailey's undoing. Pressing her index finger and thumb against the bridge of her nose, she takes steady breaths, forcing herself not to give in to the tears. She clears her throat and says, "Mom, this is my fiancé, Jay. Jay, this is my mom, Betsy."

Betsy wipes her eyes with the back of her hand and looks straight at me. "It's nice to meet you Jay."

"Pleasure is mine," I say, and without any warning, Betsy pulls me into a hug too.

"Come in, come in," she says. "Lunch is almost ready."

She leads us into the living room and the air feels strangely charged. Hailey's father, Frank, joins us and stands stiffly for a moment before he gives his daughter a clumsy sort of hug, made even more awkward by her belly. "You look like you swallowed a watermelon," he states.

Hailey runs a hand over her belly, "Sort of feels like I did."

I look between them and notice that Hailey looks a lot like him. I can see the same nose, eyes, and other common facial features.

"Dad, this is my fiancé, Jay."

We shake hands and I say, "It's nice to meet you, Sir."

He gives me a gruff nod, eyeing me up and down. "Betsy tells me you're an army boy."

"Yes," I answer, "Rangers."

He gives me a curt, unimpressed nod and shifts his attention to Betsy, who is moving about the room sort aimlessly. "Betsy, quit running in circles. You're making me dizzy," he says with a noticeable bite in his tone.

Betsy smiles weakly and before she can respond, Hailey pipes up. "Hey mom, how about I help you set the table."

"It's okay, baby. I got it."

Hailey insists and they exit together, leaving her father and I alone. There is a pin-drop silence in the living room for a few moments, but to my relief this is quickly remedied when Frank turns the television on. He reminds me of my father, a man full of misplaced anger and bitterness. But his tough-guy-act doesn't fool me. Beneath his harsh exterior I know is a man full of broken dreams.

We watch a full period of an old hockey game in silence before Hailey returns, eyes red and swollen around the edges, as if she'd been crying.

"lunch is ready," she announces.

I wrap my fingers around Hailey's elbow to hold her back. I study her expression, picking up all the clues I can find. "You okay?" I whisper.

"I'm fine," she sniffs. I give her a look of disbelief and she releases a deep breath. "I'm fine. I promise, okay?"

Reluctantly, I nod.

We sit around a wooden dining table just outside the living room. Betsy made a Greek dish that is essentially a lasagna. It's so good. This is comfort food to me. We eat mostly in silence, except for the occasional small talk between Hailey and her mom. Betsy keeps coercing Hailey to eat more, which I fully appreciate. I would endure awkward meals with the Uptons everyday if it meant Hailey would eat as much as she is right now.

"So Jay, Hailey tells me you're a detective too," Her mom states, trying to make pleasant small talk to ease the obvious tension.

"Yes," I answer, sipping my water. "We work in Intelligence together."

"Hailey, you're not still working, right? Isn't it dangerous?" her mom asks.

"I'm working behind a desk," Hailey explains. "Away from any danger."

Betsy lets out a small breath of relief, but is only half reassured. "But is it safe to work at the police station?"

"It's safe, mom. Probably one of the safest place in Chicago."

We continue eating in a sort of comfortable silence until Frank, who has been otherwise mute, decides to start up a conversation. "So when's the wedding?"

Hailey looks at me and smiles sweetly before turning to her father. "Jay and I have talked about it, and we want to wait until after the baby is born. Less stressful," she explains.

Frank mumbles something under his breath, and then says, "Bad planning, if you ask me."

I see Betsy cringe as Hailey chokes back the look of shock from her face.

Before anyone (Hailey) says anything they might regret, I pipe up, "Sure, we're doing things a bit out of order, but it's working for us." I take Hailey's hand in my own and squeeze it. "We are really happy and very excited for the baby."

Hailey gives me a weak smile, then directs her attention to her father. "Why can't you just be happy for us? So what we're not married?"

"Hailey, your dad is merely pointing out that—"

"You don't have to cover for him, mom."

"God has ordained the way things should go. It is marriage first then children," her father adds as if offhandedly, barely looking up from his plate.

Hailey scoffs. "People who live in glass houses, dad." She doesn't bother with the rest of the adage – _shouldn't throw stones. _

"What? I had my kids after I married your mother." He says defensively, even though Frank knows damn well that's not what Hailey is talking about.

"It doesn't matter," she says and rests a hand over her belly. "I came here try to make peace, but I should've known better."

"Don't be so dramatic," Frank says dismissively.

"Am I?" Despites Hailey's attempts to stay in control, her voice escalates slightly.

"Oh boy, here we go," Frank says.

"Is it dramatic to want my father to just be happy he is having a grandchild?"

"We're happy, but concerned," Frank says, but his declaration comes too late and falls short. "Parenthood is a big responsibility to shoulder alone."

"We just want what's best for you, dear. That's all," Betsy explain in a tone that I'm sure she hopes will ease the tension, but does the exact opposite.

A back and forth conversation about the hardships of single parenting continues as if I'm not in the room.

I clean my throat. "With all due respect, Mr. and Mrs. Upton," I interject. "Hailey's not doing anything alone. I love your daughter and I'm committed to spending a lifetime with her regardless if we have an official piece of paper or not. I know you don't know me well enough to trust my words when I say this, but," I turn to face Hailey and pat her knee under the table, "I can assure you she won't be _shouldering_ anything alone. I'm here for the long-haul."

Betsy smiles, but Frank's expression remains stoic, "We'll see," he grunts.

Hailey takes the napkin from her lap, dabs her mouth, and places it on the table next to her plate. I can see livid anger boiling under Hailey's skin. _Shit_. Never did I envision things would spiral out of control so quickly.

"No you won't, dad. I can't possibly think of a good reason to bring my child here."

I can almost hear the sound Betsy's heart breaking.

"Mom, food was delicious, but Jay and I are going to head out."

"You're not staying?" Betsy asks, sounding completely disheartened, though I doubt it is because we're skipping dessert. "I made loukomades."

"Let her go, Betsy," Frank says sharply. "Just let her go! It's what she does."

"We can take the dessert to go," I offer, trying to smooth things out.

Betsy stands up and says, "Let me wrap them for you, then."

We leave their house and Hailey tries to not look completely distraught, but she is. Over the years I've learned that every human being, no matter how old, longs for a parent's approval – and Hailey isn't an exception. It breaks my heart to see her so disheartened, but I have no words to make this better, no way to take this pain away.

**Hailey's POV**

Darkness falls over the house, the light from the street filtering in through the crack in the curtains and creating shadows on the walls. The baby kicks and I grunt with the discomfort it causes. I can't lie on my stomach because of the size of my belly. When I sleep on my back, the baby is more active, which makes me restless. And when I'm on my side, my hips ache because they are already beginning to "open" to accommodate the need for extra living space for the growing baby.

I'm not sleeping tonight.

I don't want my tossing and turning to wake Jay, so I quietly climb out of bed and make my way downstairs. I grab the milk from the fridge and the box with my mom's loukomades. Instead of sitting, I stand over the kitchen island, looking over the patio, lost in thought, until footsteps sound behind me. I turn to see a handsome face with sleepy eyes filling my frame of vision.

"Can't sleep?" he asks, making his way towards me.

I nod, placing a hand on my belly to calm the active nugget there. It's almost like the baby is doing somersaults in my stomach worthy of an Olympic medal.

"The baby's kicking?" he asks already excited, placing his hand on my belly. Jay beams when he feels the movement of baby _boy_ Halstead. Yes, it's a boy. I wanted to keep the gender a surprise, but Jay really wanted to find out, so I caved just so I could surprise him – haven't had the chance yet.

"Is that all that's keeping you awake?" he asks, knowingly.

"No," I tell him truthfully, but offer him nothing else. I'm not ready to talk about what transpired at my parent's house – I'm still so angry and hurt.

Jay smiles, looking into my eyes, as if reading my thoughts. "I know you have a lot going on in your mind. But I'm here whenever you want to talk about it."

He places his hand on my back, a tender, seductive touch, moving down to softly hold my waist. His body has an electric charge. He brings his lips to mine and kisses me – intense and intimate. Physically and emotionally my body craves for a release. "How about I give you a massage," he whispers against my lips. "To help you relax some."

My hero.

Back in our room, Jay grabs the massage oil and I sit on the side of bed clutching a pillow. After rubbing the oil between his hands to warm it, Jay glides his palm across my back. I sigh deeply as he begins rubbing my shoulder blades in slow steady circles.

"Have I told you how much I love you?" I murmur into the pillow.

"It's funny how you always say that when I'm giving you a massage," he teases, leaning down to playfully kiss my ear.

"What's funny is how your massages always lead to sex," I remind him.

"Yeah," he says, running his fingers up my sides, in a way that makes me shudder. "Funny thing."

He kisses a spot between my shoulder blades and kneads his thumbs into my muscles, spending a lot of time in the small of my back. Firm, almost too much, but just right. My arms loosen, my legs relax, and my eyes slip shut.

"That feels good," I murmur, feeling almost too languid to speak.

"I'm glad," he says softly.

Encouraged, he tugs at my shoulder and gently lays me down on my back. He takes the oil and drips down my chest and belly. His fingers then brush against the outer shell of my breasts, lingering a moment longer than necessary, then sweeps down to massage my legs.

"I know today was hard..." he says gently. I look in his eyes and see something I haven't seen in a while. Sadness – more than sadness, outright grief. "But I think you shouldn't give up on your parents just yet."

"What?" I tense, knowing he can feel it. "What are you talking about?"

His hands still. "Look, your father reminds me of my dad, and I think if you give him a chance, he might come around."

Oh, no, he is _not _going there. I push myself up indignantly and look into his eyes. "Do you know how many chances I've given him over the years?" Angry words pile up in my head, but I push them down. "There's no way I'm giving him a chance. Not anymore."

A deep breath of air fills Jay's lungs. "I just don't want you to make a rash decision you'll regret later."

I know my hormones are out of whack, but I might just explode. "A rash decision? I saw my mom be abused by that man my entire childhood, I will not allow him do the same to me or my child. I'm baffled that you'd even ask me that."

Jay shakes his head, his mouth firming into a line. "Look, that's not…" He pauses looking for the right words. "What I mean is–"

"—Please, don't make excuses for him."

"I'm not making excuses. It's just—"

"—What is it? Where is this coming from? Jay, we are talking about a repeat abuser who doesn't care about anyone but himself," I say and I can feel the shifts in my belly as the baby finds comfort in another position. "You should understand this better than anyone."

Jay stares at me for a moment before his eyes trail down. "I thought my dad didn't care. Like yours, he always made spiteful comments to me, to Will… Didn't approve when I enlisted and didn't bother going to my graduation from the police academy." He takes a deep breath, but his words remain gentle and tender. "But after he passed and we cleaned out his apartment, we found all these little mementos he had saved over the years, pictures, newspaper clippings…."

The vulnerability in his words abates my anger a little.

"All I'm saying is that despite every bad thing my dad did, I still regret pushing him away. I wish I could go back and change that." Our gazes meet and he half smiles. I almost can't bear to look at the pain in his eyes. "If you think can't do it for him, do it for your mom. You know she's a victim here."

His words cut through every inch of me, stripping me bare. Tears prick my eyes. He pulls me gently to him, while looking into my eyes, brushes back my hair, telling me, "I just want to spare you from having to deal with the guilt I carry. But I will support you on whatever you decide to do."

With the softness of a caress, he strokes his thumb against my lower lip pressing his own in the same spot. As his forehead rests against mine and our breaths mingle in the small space between us, I inhale him. This sweet man who continues to turn everything I know about life completely upside down.

"Think about it, okay?"

I nod. How can I not?

* * *

**Thank you for reading. I wanted to devote a chapter to deal with Hailey's parents. After I wrote it debated whether to post it or not, but decided that it couldn't hurt. I hope everyone is safe and healthy out there. Cheers – D. **


	25. Chapter 25

**Hailey's POV. **

I'm alone in the bullpen while everyone is out securing an ID for a serial arsonist. The last target, a veteran's shelter, had more than twenty casualties, leaving a dozen more in critical condition. Needless to say, Jay has fully immersed himself in this case, working around the clock to find this pyromaniac. He hides his emotions well, but I know him too intimately not to see right through to him. His body has been taut and humming with restless energy in the last few days. Last night he tossed and turned until he finally gave up and went for a run. For all our sakes, I hope we can catch a break and find this perp before he kills more innocent people.

The morning hours fly by as I lose myself in never-ending paperwork. Since this case has taken precedence, there are countless reports to catch up on. I'm halfway through completing them when my stomach growls, reminding me that it's been a while since I'd last eaten. I give Trudy a complete batch of reports for approval and relax in my chair to enjoy my lunch. It is a rarity when I can sit and enjoy a meal, and I'm going to take full advantage of the temporary lull in the bullpen.

As I lift a bite to my mouth, I hear the buzzing sound of the security door followed by hasty footsteps coming up the stairs – _so much for having a quiet moment._ I stretch my neck to see who it is and my eyes catch sight of Trudy. "Problems with the reports?" I ask.

"Is your two-way on?" she asks a bit winded.

I open my drawer and pull my radio out. "No." I look back at Trudy and realize her face is ashen and tight with worry. "What's wrong, Trudy?" I turn my radio on, but hear only static. "Did something happen?"

As if unprepared to answer my question, Trudy hesitates. I get up and walk around my desk with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. "Trudy, what happened?"

She clears her throat and says, "There was an explosion—"

My stomach takes a dive. The muscles in my chest tighten. "W-What? Anyone hurt?"

Silence. Then, a hesitant, "Yes. Jay and Adam are on their way to Med. They said it was—"

All rational thought is blown right out of my head. I can hardly breathe. I reel. _This can't be. This can't be. _Trudy's mouth continues to move, but I stopped hearing. Her words – strangely vulnerable, are being drowned out by the pounding noise in my ears. Then everything starts to go black and I lean against my desk.

Then there's a hand on my shoulder, gently squeezing it. "Hailey…" Trudy is calling me. "Hailey, are you okay? Did you hear what I said? A patrol car is outside waiting to take us to Med."

My brain finally kicks back into gear and I waddle down the stairs. My legs feel so heavy; like I'm dragging them with each step. My whole body from the neck down feels heavy, my feet, ankles, thighs, stomach, chest… everything heavy. Everything aching. The baby moves erratically inside my belly and a small but solid- looking lump pushes out just under my ribs. A heel? I place two fingers against the tiny bulge, massaging it back. _Everything is going to be fine. Jay is going to be just fine – _I repeat the mantra in my head.

We arrive at the hospital, and rush into the ED. The nurses can't tell us much and we are told to wait in the waiting room. I find Kim first and she immediately wraps me in a tight hug. I feel the baby kick hard again, and the sob rises out of my mouth before I can stop it. I let the tears roll freely down my cheeks. Then the team gathers around – all streaked with soot, hands bloodied, but otherwise unharmed.

"What happened?" I manage to ask.

"We got word of the offender's location and when we breached the whole place blew up," Kim explains. "Jay and Adam were first through and took the brunt of the explosion."

"How bad?" I ask, digging my nails into the palms of my hands so as not to crumble. "No sugarcoating, no bull. I want the truth."

"They were both knocked unconscious. Jay was bleeding from the back of his head," Voight says and my heart squeezes into a painful knot. "The paramedics said Adam had a collapsed lung." There is a hard edge of anger in his voice—anger and frustration all mixed together. For a few seconds he massages his temples with his thumb and forefinger "The bastard knew we were coming."

"Anyone come with an update?" Trudy asks.

"No, not yet," Atwater answers. "They've only been inside for about an hour."

We sit in the waiting room and a sense of déjà vu overwhelms me. Time slows. All the pain, the uncertainty, and the helplessness comes back in a crushing wave – swallowing me up. Drowning me. I feel like I'm losing Jay all over again.

x

Thankfully, we don't have to wait long. Fifteen minutes after we arrived, Will enters the waiting room. I quickly get up to meet him and he says, "He's good, Hailey. Jay's good." He gives me a reassuring smile – without any worry in it. "He has a concussion and a deep cut on the back of his head, but is otherwise okay. We'll keep him overnight to monitor, but he'll be fine."

If I wasn't so pregnant, I'd jump for joy. Instead, I settle for a good cry. I can't help it. I'm so relieved.

"What about Adam?" Kim pipes up.

"He's coming out of surgery now," Will says. "He stable and Dr. Marcel should be coming out with a more detailed update."

We all breathe a sigh of relief. The tears are contagious, and everyone joins in.

Will tells me where Jay's room is and I practically run there. I open the door and my response is involuntary, instinctual, and immediate – I beeline to him and throw my arms around him. He wraps his arms around me, and I press my head against his chest. It feels like we've been apart for days rather than hours. It sounds ridiculous, but I missed his touch, his smell, his warmth—God, I missed him holding me like this.

Jay is a part of me, and I'm a part of him. Part of my soul lives inside of him, just like a part of him is moving impatiently inside of me.

I grab Jay's face in my hands and kiss him all over – his forehead, eyes, nose, cheeks, chin. I stop and stare into his eyes with relief; I move his face closer to mine and kiss his lips. He tastes like salt, and all I can think is how glad I am that he is okay, how glad I am that he is right here with me, safe. I feel my nose sting with tears I can no longer hold back. I'm an emotional wreck. He pulls back slightly, leaning his forehead against mine. "Hailey, I'm okay," he says softly. "A little sore, but I'm good."

I press another kiss to his lips, my hands cupping his cheeks tenderly. "We're so glad you're okay."

He slides over in his hospital bed and pats the empty spot. "C'mere." I sit next to him and he puts his arms around me and his other on my stomach. His thumb moves gently back and forth across my belly. "You're not getting rid of me that easily," he says, trying to make light of the situation. But when I give him a bleak half smile, he adds, "I'm sorry. Too soon?"

I nod. "Yes. Way too soon."

"I'm sorry. I know that must've been scary."

I look at him, but don't say anything. I know he sees the anguish of the last hour in my eyes – there's no hiding it. He pulls me against his chest and kisses the side of my head. I close my eyes. We remain silent for a few moments, and then he says, "They are keeping me overnight."

"I know," I say. "Will said you have quiet the cut on your head."

Jay turns his head and I can see a bandage just above his neck. "The blast knocked me off my feet and I hit my head on the way down. Will said only Adam and I were hurt. Have you heard anything about him?"

"Not in detail, just that he was out of surgery and stable."

"That's good."

The room falls silent and I find myself touching Jay just to reassure myself that he is really okay. Then we both feel the baby kick. We watch the skin bounce as little feet push within, sending an uncomfortable twinge in my side. "I guess _he's_ happy you're okay too," I say and in a heartbeat I realize what I have done.

"Wait, did you say _he_?" Jay asks.

"Or she, you know?" I say, tying to rectify my slip-up. But it's too late, Jay knows. He flashes this big smile, beautiful and blindingly wide. He is searching my eyes for confirmation, and I'm sure it's written all over my face.

"Hailey?"

"Damn it! I wanted to surprise you. I saw how much you wanted to know, so I decided to make this big reveal, but…"

"So, it's a boy?" he asks, a boyish smile playing on his lips.

I nod. "I'm sorry, this is not how I wanted—"

He kisses my lips and smiles. "It's perfect. Best surprise ever." He pushes my shirt up, exposing my stomach. He kisses my belly, laying his cheek against my skin. Baby boy kicks again. "Quit kicking mom so hard, buddy," he says to my burgeoning belly.

"It's okay. Let him kick. If he is kicking he is growing," I say sounding very much like my mother.

Jay nods and kisses me again. I sigh against his mouth and lean against him as he envelops me in his arms. I burrow against his chest again and place a hand protectively over my belly.

My boys.

My life.

**Jay's POV **

After a week at home, I go back to work only to find out the arsonist case went cold. The bastard went dark after the explosion, knowing we were hot on his heels. But he can't stay hidden long. He will pop up again, and when he does we'll be waiting.

I can tell the incident shook Hailey and she's been sort of clingy and I can tell she's a little anxious that I'm back on full duty. I'm grabbing a cup of coffee when she's waddles into the kitchen, hand on her burgeoning belly, probably trying to sooth our son.

"The waddles on point, Hailey," Adam yells cheekily from his desk.

She turns, "Don't make me _waddle_ over there and puncture your other lung."

"Ouch," he clutches his chest, feigning hurt.

Hailey turns back to me, clutching the shattered remains of her confidence.

"You know what I think?" I say, pulling her towards me. "I think you look cute when you waddle like that."

A smile blooms over her face. "You might change your mind when I'm double this size. There's still three months to go."

I kiss her nose. "More of you to love!"

She smacks my arm playfully and smiles. "So, you sure you're feeling good? Voight won't mind if you need a couple more days."

"I'm good. Head is clear."

She nods. "You'll tell me if that changes, right?"

"Of course." It is unlikely that I would be able to hide anything from her - her Spidey sense has been on high alert lately.

We start hearing a small uproar in the bullpen and we both turn towards the sound. At first it is a lot of happy shrieks, then clapping is added, and soon it is transformed into a roar of laughter. I walk towards the small gathering and from the middle emerges the one and only, Erin Lindsay. Our eyes meet. I'm stunned. I must look stupid, my mouth open and eyes bulging.

She looks different, changed somehow. Her hair is longer, darker. She appears older, wiser somehow; it suits her. I suppose the look of shock on my face is a source of amusement for her, because she laughs. "Hey, partner," she rasps. "You look like you're seeing a ghost."

I chuckle and blurt out the first thing that comes to my mind. "Perhaps I am," I say and greet her with a stiff hug. "What brings you here?"

"Looks like your little arsonist is also on my list. Thought we could share notes."

I nod. "Yeah, of course. Good to see you."

"Yeah, you too." Then Erin sort of looks past me, tilting her head to one side while furrowing her brow. "Hailey, is that you?"

I turn and see Hailey waddling towards the center of the pen, looking rather unsure of herself. "Hey," she waves.

"Oh my God, wait, you're pregnant?" Erin asks.

Hailey runs a hand over her stomach and her face splits into a sheepish grin. "Yeah, I'm–"

"—_We_ are pregnant," I cut in. My eyes meet Hailey's and she smiles up at me, a soft, tender smile that quirks at the corners of her mouth. God, she looks so beautiful when she smiles like that.

Erin looks between Hailey and I, shock widening her eyes for a moment. I can see she's taken aback, but quickly regains her composure. Her face dimples into a smile. "Wow! C-Congratulations, you guys! This baby is going to kick ass."

"He is already kicking a whole lot in here. My ribs can't barely take it," Hailey says.

"It's boy?" Erin asks.

We both nod.

Erin shakes her head slowly. "Just what the world needs, another Jay Halstead."

x

Erin debrief us on what the Feds have on the arsonist and we share what we have. Seems like this pyromaniac likes to build explosives for terrorists too. The bomb that almost took Adam and I out, has the same signature as one the FBI traced to a terrorist cell in New York. Now it makes sense why he would target a veteran's shelter of all places.

After shift the whole team goes to Molly's to fully welcome Erin back. The mood is light and happy and drinks flow. She tells us about her gig with the Feds and how she oversees a whole team of operatives. She seems genuinely happy. We reminisce about old cases and joke about the early days in Intelligence. None of us can forget the day Hailey marched into the bullpen for the first time and spilled coffee on Trudy's shirt.

"God, I was so embarrassed that I just wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole," Hailey says. "I was pretty sure I was going to get the foot beat at 26th and Cal. after that."

"That was a tough case," Erin recalls and shakes her head at the memory. "I remember finding those two boys…"

Adam nods. "Head taps. 12 gauge. Double buck. You don't forget walking into a scene like that."

We all take a sip of our drinks. My beer is flat and it burns down my throat and turns my stomach when it gets there. "I think I need another beer," I say. "How about a new round?" I ask and everyone nods. "Babe, you want another water?"

"Nah," she shakes her head. "If I drink anymore water I will be spending the night in the bathroom."

"Here, let me help you," Erin offers and grabs the empty bottles from the table. We walk up to the bar and ask Herman for another round.

"I can't believe you're going to be a dad," Erin says.

"Yeah, somedays I can't believe it myself. It's sort of crazy." I say. "Though, a good crazy," I clarify.

"I saw the ring on her finger. When's the big day?"

I chuckle. "We don't have a date. We want to wait until after the baby is here. But before you say anything, I asked her to marry me before we knew about the baby."

Erin chuckles. "I'm not judging."

"Yeah, yeah… How about you? Seeing anyone?"

She shakes her head. "Being undercover sort of kills any chance I have of meeting people."

I nod. "I know how that goes."

Erin smiles. "I'm happy for you, though. You and Hailey make a great couple."

I nod. "Yeah, she's amazing. In every way."

Erin smiles. "I will l never forget how she had my back with the Review Board after that interview got away from me. She could have thrown all of us under the bus, but she didn't." She takes a deep breath and her eyes take on a faraway look, her smile lost. "I knew I was leaving you in good hands."

I chuckle. "You did. You'll be happy to know Hailey called me out on all my bullshit."

"Good."

Herman places our drink order on the counter and Erin grabs her drink and lifts it up for a toast. "To always having each other's back."

"To always having each other's back," I repeat and we tap our drinks and sip.

* * *

**Thank you for reading! I apologize for the delay between chapters. It's been a bit hectic and sitting down to write has been nearly impossible. Hope you liked this update. Let me know what you think. Cheers, D. **


	26. Chapter 26

**Hailey's POV **

Another fire.

Another tragedy.

This time, at the Lakeside VA clinic. The Feds are all over the case now. But without a name, we aren't any closer to finding this arsonist. Everything about him is calculated – the locations, times of the fires, and how they are set. Something is driving him, an objective in mind. This pyromaniac is not a thrill seeker, suggesting he will continue to escalate until he finally gets whatever it is he's after.

Jay comes home exhausted, emotionally and physically. Working that crime scene today probably took him back to his time overseas – to all the pain and death. I go to him and wrap my arms around him, leaning my cheek against his shoulder. My heart breaks for my war vet.

"Is there anything I can do to help? Tell me what you need," I ask.

I feel him exhale slowly, resting his cheek against my hair. "I'll be fine, Hailey. It was just one of those days," he says, the sadness in his voice clear.

He plants a kiss on my hair, then rubs my belly affectionately. Wordlessly, he walks in the direction of the bathroom, and minutes later, I hear the shower running. I shuffle down the hallway and open the bathroom door a fraction, peeking inside. I see Jay in the shower, facing the tiled wall, letting the hot water pound on him. Something inside of me coils like an overwound watch spring, and it cranks a notch tighter at the sight of him – head bowed, shoulders sagging, posture full of defeat.

I quietly disrobe and go join him.

I snuggle up to his back, pressing myself as best I can to him. The muscles in his body are tense and pulsating with restless energy. I gently run my hands up and down his back, my nails barely grazing his skin. I touch my lips to the curving depression between his shoulder blades and kiss a trail along his spine. Gradually, I feel his body relax a little, losing that unnatural rigidity.

"Babe, tell me what you need," I ask again.

Jay turns to face me, and we both gaze into each other's eyes – a perfect flow of wordless communication between us. He reaches for my hair tie and gently slides it down my messy bun, letting my hair fall loosely over my shoulders and around my face. He runs his fingers through it, holding it off my face. "You're all I need."

This small moment feels more intimate than all the kissing in the world. I lean forward, plant a kiss on his chest, then slowly (because that's my default setting now) ease to my knees, catching him by surprise.

"Hailey?"

"Let me," I tell him.

I encircle him and stroke my hand up and back over his length – he groans. I lick my tongue along the underside of his shaft and slide back up circling the crest. I tease him a bit more before I finally taken him into my mouth and begin to work him. Playing and sucking and finding a rhythm that has his hands entangling in my hair and pleasure escaping his throat.

I try to increase the pace, but the weight of my pregnant belly is putting pressure on my back and throwing me off balance. I begin to slip and Jay is quick to notice. He slips out of my mouth and pulls me up.

"Hey, I wasn't—"

"—I can't have you falling," he says and starts to rub my back, almost as if he knows its sore. "How's that?" He leans forwards and kisses my collarbone, his hands working behind me.

"Perfect, but I want you." My words come out in a breathless whisper.

Jay claims my mouth then, tugging my lips between his in the way that I love. He spins me, so I'm facing the shower stall, and pulls my hips toward him, holding onto me so that I don't slip. He leans down slightly, and I can feel his breath on my neck, ever so gently. He drops tiny kisses along my neck and shoulders, his lips light, his touch fleeting.

"Is this okay?" He asks, trickling his fingernails down my back.

"Yeah," I answer breathlessly.

"Tell me the instant that changes," he whispers.

I nod, and then he is over me, one hand cupping my breast, the other urging my legs apart. He enters me slowly, gently, increasing in intensity once he is sure I'm good – which I am. There's no pain, just a complete satisfying sense of being full to the brim…with him, our child, with happiness and love.

He pants softly against my neck as he begins to move, slowly, so, so slowly, rocking in and out of me. The shower fills with steam and I press my palms against the tiled wall, savoring the feeling. A gentle rhythm builds as our bodies move away and come back together. Sparks crackle under my skin, lighting me up. I tip my head back onto his shoulder, and a sharp, "Ah!" escapes my throat, but it blends into a longer whimper as his teeth graze my earlobe.

"You sure you're okay?" he asks huskily.

"More than okay," I pant up, and feel his hot breath against my skin.

My breaths get shorter and quicker, and involuntary little gasps escape my mouth. I feel my release building as Jay finally increases the pace. He is everywhere at once, wired directly to my nervous system: a sensory overload that tears me apart from the inside out. My body trembles and we come unglued together in a blur of sensations. I love him. I love him so much.

Jay keeps his arms wrapped around me, pressing sweet, sucking kisses against the back of my neck. Then, his right hand comes to my face and he slowly spins me around. "You're my whole life, Hailey. You are everything to me," he says pressing his forehead to mine.

I frame his face in my hands, pressing my lips to his. "I love you."

"Love you, too. Both of you."

**Jay's POV **

I lay in bed as the sun comes up and watch a beam of light cross Hailey's face. I stroke her hair on the side of her head and stare at her beautiful peaceful face. I really don't deserve someone like her, but I'm so glad I'm the one she wants. Last night when she stepped into the shower and wrapped me in her arms, it nearly shattered me. Hailey loves so effortlessly that I'm constantly amazed she is mine to love and cherish.

I glance at the clock and my heart sinks when I realize I have to head into work early. This case is taking a toll on me – on everyone. It's not enough to say I'm tired. Exhausted, delirious, drained may be, nothing so trivial as tired. I can't remember the last time I slept through the night. The silver lining? I get to feel our son move all night long when Hailey's belly is pressed right up against my back. Sometimes, I lift her pajama top and watch her stomach quiver with lumps and bumps protruding and retreating. It's amazing.

I kiss Hailey's forehead and slide my arms out from underneath her. I quietly dress and head into work. When I arrive, Erin is there, head in a stack of papers. It's still sort of weird having her around. In some ways, it feels like I've traveled back in time.

"Morning," I say.

"Oh, hey," her head pops up. "Don't get too comfy. We're meeting a CI in Bridgeport. He is tapped in with the Disciples and says a guy came around looking for blasting caps."

"Do you think that's our guy?"

She shrugs. "I don't know. There's only one way to find out."

We hop in the rig and drive to the south side of Chicago. It's December and cold. The wind is bitter and unforgiving. The trees are bare and a sheet of ice covers the entire city, making everything seem breakable.

"This feels weird, being in a car with you again," Erin admits.

"It does feel strange," I agree. "It's like I've gone back in time to that one day you let me drive."

"I let you drive plenty," she counters.

We arrive at our destination and I park the rig on the side of the road. My phone lights up with a notification and from my periphery I can see Erin's eyes wander towards it. It's a weekly alert from the baby app that tracks the baby's growth.

"The baby is the size of an eggplant," she intones.

My lips stretch into a smile, imaging an eggplant with arms and legs poking Hailey from the inside. "I guess he is," I say. "A couple weeks ago he was the size of a cauliflower head."

"Why is a baby's growth always compared to food?"

I chuckle and shrug my shoulders. "I guess it's better than comparing it to immanent objects. 'Your baby is the size of a coffee cup this week.'"

Erin laughs, and an awkward silence follows before she clears her throat, "So, how's the baby preparations going?"

"Good. Good. I put the crib together a few days ago. It sort of made things more official," I answer. "Not that it wasn't official before, it's just that now he has a bed."

Erin chuckles, "I bet Will is super excited to be an uncle."

"Yes, he is. He's being weirdly overzealous, but Hailey thinks it's endearing."

A small smile appears on her lips and her eyes become distant and unfocused. Despite being apart for a few years, I still can tell when she has something on her mind. "What is it?"

Erin turns to me and releases a little half-chuckle. "Very perceptive of you." She pauses, hesitating, a flush welling up on her cheek. "I've been actually meaning to apologize to you for the way I left. I know it might not mean much after all these years, but you deserved better."

"Oh, uh…" I stumble with my words. "It's okay. You were put in a tough spot," I say, trying my best to appear unaffected by her unexpectedly declaration.

She shakes her head. "Still, I could've done things differently. You were the last person I wanted to hurt."

"Seriously, it's okay. Water under the bridge," I say. "Things worked out in the end," I remind her.

She releases a sigh then, which is punctuated by a soft chuckle. "You know, sometimes I wonder what would've happened if I'd stayed."

I think about how I carried my mom's ring in my pocket for a week waiting for her to call me. "Well, I was going to propose to you," I blurt out before I can catch myself. Erin blinks, shock registering on her face, and I immediately realize my mistake.

"What?" she asks.

I wrack my brain for something to say, anything to deflect from the weight of that statement. "Look, you were going through a lot, and I wanted to be there for you. My solution was to propose to you."

Erin does some more blinking, still stunned by my words.

Thinking fast, I add, "It was naive for me to think a proposal would solve all our problems. You never needed saving, anyway. Good thing I didn't, right?"

"Yeah," she finally intones. A small smile appears on her face, but it doesn't erase the tinge of melancholy I see there. She's silent for a moment, then says, "Why didn't you?"

I shrug, "Never found the right moment."

"Right," Erin nods slowly.

I used to think about what would have happened if I had asked Erin to marry me. But then I look back and I'm glad I never got the chance. Despite being in love with Erin, I never managed to let her in all the way. I just couldn't. But that changed when I met Hailey. She broke down all my barriers. I let Hailey in. I _wanted_ to let her in.

"Everything worked out," I repeat.

"I guess they did."

We meet with the CI, but he doesn't give us anything we don't already have. I feel like a gerbil in a wheel—run, run, run, no traction, no ground covered. We drive back disappointed – but I have a feeling Erin's disappointment extends beyond the case.

x

We walk up to the bullpen empty handed. But being greeted by Hailey's warm smile is like applying a soothing balm over my ragged nerves.

"Hi," I return the smile.

"I got us lunch." She holds a fast-food bag and a box with at least a dozen donuts. "Before you jump down my throat about nutritional value, there are four of the basic food groups in this bag. The box contains the necessary food group for the soul."

"The soul?"

"The cop soul," she says, proud of her own joke.

She gives me a grin, and irresistible dimples. I lean forward and peck her lips. "Let me submit this report to Trudy and I will meet you in the kitchen."

"You go it."

It takes me a few minutes to fill-out and submit the report, and when I enter the kitchen, the food is there, but Hailey isn't. I find her in the locker room, standing there with arms crossed over her belly, face calm. Her eyes, however, are livid, burning with anger.

"Everything okay?" I ask and reach for her, but she pulls away. Her eyes look deep into mine and I get the feeling that she's searching for something, trying to read me. But I'm not sure what. "Hailey, what's wrong?"

She sighs. "You were going to propose to Erin," she says, and it isn't a question but a statement.

"Wait, what?" I ask perplexed.

"Erin said you were going to propose to her," Hailey repeats, her voice sharper this time.

I try to process her words, feeling completely blindsided_._

"Jay..."

Hailey's voice brings me back with a jolt. "I-I thought about it, but didn't. Hailey," I reach for her again, but she holds her hands up, placing a protective barrier between us. Tears fill her eyes. She's angry, but most of all she looks hurt.

"Why didn't you tell me? Why did I have to hear it from your ex-girlfriend?"

"I-I don't… It didn't think it was important because I never actually proposed."

Hailey bites her lip, shaking her head. "You loved her enough to want to propose to her. It's important, Jay."

"Hailey, it was a knee jerk reaction from an insecure guy whose life was crumbling before his eyes."

She looks away, stifling a sob. "Do you still have feelings for her?"

"What? Hailey, no!" I say resolutely. Where is this coming from? "This is crazy, Babe. I love you. And only you. How can you even question that?"

She shakes her head. "You should have told me."

"Fine, you're right. I should have told you that I thought of proposing to my ex-girlfriend." There's probably too much bite in my tone, but I can't help myself. This is insane.

Hailey looks up at me with tears rolling down her face. "With this ring?" she asks, holding up her hand.

I release a deep sigh and nod.

Her mouth opens but no sound comes out. I wince when her face crumbles. "Hailey—" I begin, but Adam pops his head inside the locker room.

"Hey, uh, sorry to interrupt, but we have another fire."

"Oh, okay," I say, watching Hailey turns away. I know she's been extra sensitive lately and maybe it will be best if we let the dust settle before we pick this up again. Maybe, she'll come to her senses and realize just how insane this is.

We hotfoot to the bullpen where Voight is doing a quick debrief. "There is a fire in an abandoned warehouse in Roger's Park. Chief Bonden says it has the same signature as the other fires set by the arsonist."

"Doesn't seem like his usual target," Rojas notes.

"We might have a copycat," Kim says.

Voight pinches his temples between his thumb and forefinger as if he can squeeze the answer out of his head, "We won't know until we get here. I want everyone on scene."

I look to Hailey, but she's avoiding all eye contact with me.

"Olive and Danny?" I hear Erin ask Voight. "They need to be at the airport by 6:00."

"I can drop them off," Hailey offers, her face blank, stoic even. "It's no trouble," she adds.

"Thank you, Hailey. I will let Olive know," Voight says. "Let's roll out."

I walk over to Hailey's desk and I just look at her for a moment, not sure what to say. I settle for, "See you at home?"

She nods and for a brief moment, something swims across her eyes that is yielding and soft. I seize the opportunity and take her hand in mine. She doesn't pull away as I thought she might. "I promise we'll talk this out."

She nods again, eyes glazed. "You shouldn't make them wait," she says.

I squeeze her hand leave her with an, "I love you."

**Hailey's POV**

_I love you, too. _

I fight back the tears but to no use – they course down my cheeks uninterrupted. All these emotions I'm feeling are so raw that I can't focus. I just feel so sad and angry and hurt. Erin's comment triggered something inside me that I can't explain.

"_Now that's a feast," Erin said entering the kitchen. _

"_Going for comfort foods, since I'm always uncomfortable nowadays," I said and hissed when the baby kicked hard. "He is just doing his afternoon calisthenics," I explained. _

_She chuckled. "Can't imagine what it's like growing a mini Jay." _

"_I'm sure I'm all bruised up inside," I joked. _

"_Thanks for taking the bullet. To think it could've been me had Jay gone through with his proposal." _

I'm hurt that Jay didn't tell me he almost proposed to Erin. It's a rather significant detail to overlook. You don't give your mother's ring to anyone, right? Am I being irrational? Maybe it's my hormones speaking, I don't care. My tears are real; the pain I feel is very real.

I pull myself together and after shift, I drive to Voight's house. Once I get there, I notice the house is completely dark. I walk up the front steps and notice the door is slightly open.

"Olive," I call, "It's Hailey."

No answer.

"Olive?"

I push the door open and walk inside. I blindly move along the wall looking for a light switch. When I finally locate one, I hear a loud shriek followed by something hitting the floor hard. _Olive_? My hand instinctively goes to my holster, except I'm not wearing one.

I tiptoe towards the bottom of the stairs and see a shadowy figure moving upstairs. Adrenaline rushes through every inch of my being. However, for the first time it feels foreign and fear overtakes me. I grab my phone from my back pocket and text Jay. _Need backup. Voight's house. Now! _

I need to get out of here. I walk back towards the front door, but stop when I hear heavy footsteps coming down. I tread back down the hall towards what I think is the kitchen, where I find the back door. With trembling hands, I tug on the handle but it doesn't budge. In the darkness, my heart beats quickly, and I begin to strategize ways to get out. But to my surprise, I hear the creek of the front door opening, followed by the slam of it shutting.

I tread back down the hall and peek out the window. The intruder is standing on the lawn with a gas can. I watch helplessly as he starts dumping the gas over the front porch. He disappears to the side of the house, but comes back and lights a match. Immediately, a wall of flames starts to build a barrier between the porch and the house. He stands there, watching the flames grow.

I stumble back, terrified. I need to find Olive and Danny. I go upstairs and discover Olive sprawled on the floor, blood coming from one side of her head. She's breathing, but unconscious. Now, where's Danny?

"Danny!" I call. "Danny!"

No answer.

We need to get out of here. The smoke is already billowing into the house.

"Olive, you need to wake up! Olive!" I pat her face a few times to make her come to, but she's unresponsive. The flames spread through the house, crackling and building. The heat is becoming unbearable. I'm having a tough time breathing without choking. I put a hand protectively over my belly; I have to get out of here. I grab Olive's legs and pull her into the closest room.

The night is disappearing around the house, the flames lighting up the lawn like daylight. Somewhere in the house something crashes, bringing me back. _We have to get out_. I pull on Olive's legs, getting her near a window. Then, a blast like a bomb goes off and rattles the whole house. We don't have much time, I'm not sure we have any. The baby is kicking and moving around like a miniature earthquake in my stomach.

"Olive! Please wake up! We need to get out of here!" _Come on, come on!_ Slowly, Olive opens her eyes, coughing as smoke fills her lungs. "That's it. C'mon, Olive. We need—" I try to speak, but a fit of cough steals the words. "We need to get out. The house is on fire!"

Olive starts, disoriented. "D-Danny, where's Danny? I-I told him to run! T-There's a man… He, He—"

"Danny probably ran out," I tell her, thinking of the opened front door when I arrived. "Now we need to find a way out!"

Wood crackles and spits. Smoke billows and sting my eyes and throat. A siren wails nearby.

I pull the window open and smoke pours out into the night. We need to climb down somehow. I pull Olive to her knees, blood dripping from her head. "Do you think you can climb out?" I ask, and she nods. Slowly, she clambers out, one leg at a time. The smoke pouring out the window is thick, and I lose sight of her.

"Olive!" I call, but I'm racked by a fit of coughing. I can't breathe. "Olive!" I try again.

Nothing.

I grit my teeth, trying to prop myself out of the window, but my arms won't lift me. The smoke is filling my chest, sizzling out my nose, and stealing every bit of the oxygen inside my lungs. I'm so lightheaded I can no longer keep myself upright. My body gives away and I slump to the floor with a dull thud. This excruciating pain comes from around my back into my stomach and the baby balls up in a knot. I want to scream, but I can't. All I can do is cough, my lungs burning and heaving. I place my hands protectively over my stomach and close my eyes.

The sirens grow louder now, almost deafening. I can feel myself about to fade when something bangs on the window and glass shatters, falling like rain around me. Shards of glass sting my arms. Hands reach in, and a voice yells, what? I can't tell. Slowly, I feel myself being pulled up and away just as everything fades.

* * *

**Thank you for reading! This chapter basically wrote itself (love me some drama), I hope you guys liked it. It's always lovely to hear from you guys. I appreciated the reviews. Cheers, D.**

***Working as fast as I can to get the next ch. out***


	27. Chapter 27

**Jay's POV**

The news of the fire hit me like an eighteen wheeler barreling down the highway. I felt as if I was moving through someone else's movie. Everything felt surreal, in slow motion. I became disoriented, and the whole sequence of events that followed had a dream-like quality – an unreality of some sorts. I remember the pain – this inexplicable, never-ending feeling of despair that kept growing bigger and bigger inside my chest, making it hard to breathe. I kept thinking, _this isn't happening. It's just a nightmare. Wake up, Jay. Wake up!_ But it wasn't a nightmare and I couldn't get away.

When we arrived on scene, the house was almost completely engulfed in flames. I remember the electrical wires in front of the house started arcing, the transformers exploded, and sparks flew everywhere. We quickly learned that Olive and Danny were taken to Med, but that Hailey was still inside. I tried to push my way through, but was forcibly held back.

Then, I saw her being extricated from a second floor window. I saw her long blonde hair billowing in the wind, her limbs hanging loosely, her pregnant belly pocking from underneath her shirt. My heart stopped, the blood was gone from my face and neck. I couldn't breathe or move. My body went rigid as I watched the firefighters hoist her lifeless body down.

I have never prayed so hard in my life. But I stood there bargaining with God – please let her live, let _them_ live. Take me. Not _them_. The pain and grief made the tears involuntary.

Once they had her on a stretcher, I pushed my way to her. She didn't respond to my voice, I called her name, squeezed her arm, but she was unresponsive. She wasn't breathing. The paramedics started doing CPR. They hooked up the EKG and we watched in absolute horror as the peaks on the heart monitor dropped off, disappearing entirely.

"She's flat-lining!"

A couple of jolts with the defibrillator didn't change a thing. That was when I began to sob. I couldn't hold it in. My chest hurt so badly, it was as if someone, or something, had hold of my heart, and was squeezing it, squeezing the blood and life out of it. I began to choke, "Oh God, this can't be happening. Oh God, please no!"

"Clear!" the paramedic shouted again.

They stepped back, their gloved hands suspended in the air. Another jolt and Hailey's body jerked, then collapsed on the gurney. On the monitor, nothing. The alarms wailed maddeningly. My face felt hot. My heart pounded violently.

"Clear," the paramedic shouted again.

"Wait!" the second paramedic held up a hand. Her focus on the monitor. The welcome beep…beep started. "We have a pulse. Let's get her to Med!"

There were audible sighs of relief. "T-The baby…I-Is the baby okay?" I manage to blurt out.

"We don't know. We need to get her to Med."

I rode with Hailey in the ambulance, clutching her hand in mine. I leaned down and kissed her face, cheeks, eyes, forehead, lips. Light kisses, interspersed with _Please, Hailey. Come back to me. Please._ _You have to come back._ I kept my other hand over her belly, over our son, and just cried. Tears of shock. Tears of pain, tears of grief and anger and disbelief that this was happening.

When we arrived at Med, they rushed her inside and that was when I saw the large crimson stain spreading down between her legs. Suddenly drained from all strength, I fell to my knees, feeling as lifeless as the cold tile floor beneath me. I was skin and bones and brain and blood vessels making attempts at movement. Lips in slow motion on a frozen face with unfamiliar arms and legs, a mind repeating over and over, _this isn't happening. This can't be happening._

That was three hours ago…

I'm currently sitting in the waiting room in a numb state of utter shock. Honestly, I feel that hearing that I have less than an hour to live on Earth would not have been as awful as the pain I feel now. I'm literally sick to my stomach and my body is shaking uncontrollably. My mind, heart, and soul is in shambles. I'm severely grief-stricken and fatally broken. Hailey is my whole life.

"They'll pull through," I hear Erin say. She's the only one here, the entire CPD is out looking for the bastard. The whole city is in lockdown.

"Why are you here?" I ask angrily, though I don't mean to. Misplaced as it is, I am angry at her. "Hailey and I had our first real argument today because of you."

"What? I-I-don't—" she stumbles.

"Why did you tell her I was going to propose to you?" I ask, unable to keep the edge out of my voice.

"It was just an offhand comment. I was just joking about how she bit the bullet carrying your kid and how it could've been me."

I shake my head. "Can't you can see how a comment like that might affect a seven-month pregnant Hailey?"

"I-I'm sorry, it was not my intention. I-It was a joke, a really bad one."

I sigh and bury my face in my hands, trying to breathe around the elephant that is settled on my chest. "I can't believe our last conversation was a stupid argument."

"Hey, hey…" Erin says, placing a careful hand on my shoulder. "That was not your last conversation or your last argument. Hailey's strong. She'll pull through."

I shake my head, letting the tears fall. "I don't know what I'm going to do if Hailey…or if the baby…" I let my voice trail off. I can't bear to finish the sentence or even the thought.

"That's not going to happen. They are in really good hands."

Outside the sky is ominously dark and it is beginning to rain. I watch everyone around me look so normal, so unaffected. Don't they know what is going on? How can they go about their business knowing Hailey, _my Hailey_, is now fighting for her life? Why is everyone behaving as if nothing happened? I feel myself spiraling and, if previous experience is anything to go by, I won't stop until I hit rock bottom.

I don't know how long we sit here before Will finally enters the waiting room. I hurry to meet him, heart hammering in my chest.

"How's Hailey? The baby?" I ask, desperate.

"Hailey's stable. She's got a bad case of smoke inhalation, but her lungs are doing okay and she is breathing on her own. She has second degree burns over 15% of her body, but nothing critical."

I swallow the painful lump in my throat and manage to ask, "The baby?"

**Hailey's POV**

_Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep. _

My eyes refuse to open, as though they've been taped shut. My hearing is all fuzzy, like I'm wearing earplugs. The mumbles float through my consciousness, but it's like I'm underwater. I can't focus, I can't place the voices.

_How is she?_

_No change. _

Oh, that's Jay. Definitely. I'd know his voice anywhere. It's probably time for me to get up. I'd kill for a hug from him right now. I miss him so much – I feel like I haven't seen him in ages. Why is that? I'm so tired. Maybe I can snooze for a few more minutes, then I'll get up and get dressed. The baby probably kept me up all night if I'm dragging so much this morning. Though, I can remember. Anyways, I'll just sleep a little longer.

x

_Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep. _

_Jay, go home, shower, maybe nap? I can sit here. I won't leave, I promise. _

Is that Kim? Why is Kim here?

_No, I'm not going anywhere. _

_You need to rest. You can't keep sleeping in a chair. It's been three days. _

_I can't leave. What if she wakes up? I need to be here. _

Their words filter through my mind. I feel like I'm forgetting something. I try to speak, but my mouth won't make words. My throat feels dry. I want to reach out, touch him, but my arms feel so unbelievably heavy. Jay takes my hand in his, his lips softly kissing the back of my hand. I try to squeeze his fingers, but only my pinky works.

"Hailey? Oh my God! I'm here. I'm right here, Babe."

I hear Jay's voice catch in his throat. Why does he sound so worried? I work hard to slip my eyes open, slowly, and it takes me a while to focus. The room is dark, but two silhouettes stand by my bed. One is definitely Jay. But this is definitely _not_ our bedroom.

"Oh, Hey…" He continues kissing the back on my hand. "I'm here. Not going anywhere."

I'm still so tired. My eyes are droopy and I feel so heavy. I'll just nap a little longer. If only that beeping would stop. Did someone leave the freezer open or something? Is the garbage truck forever backing up in the alley? When I wake up again, I'll make fun of Jay for being a so worried about me all the time. Then, I'll kiss him, because I miss him.

x

_Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep. _

I wake up again. Still so very tired.

_Updates on the case? _

_No, not yet. He is still in the wind._

_How's Olive and Danny?_

_They arrived back in Arizona today. Happy to be back home. _

_The house? _

_Gone. _

This conversation has my pulse skittering. I focus on my breathing, slowing it down.

_They found an explosive device similar to the one from the VA shelter by the backdoor. Good thing They were upstairs; they wouldn't have survived the blast. _

My heart races in my chest and threatens to explode free. The more they talk, the more I remember. There was a fire. Was I hurt? A sudden tornado of images and memories fly through my head, seizing my heart in its wake. Oh, God, the fire! Panic sets in. I try to move my hands to my belly, but a pinch of pain stops me. My baby! I try to feel where the throbbing is coming from but I actually can't pick a place that doesn't hurt. A raspy vibration moves up my throat and out of my mouth, "Rrrr-Hhhh…"

_Hey, hey she's walking up. _

_Should I get a nurse? _

I slowly pry my eyes open and they waver, opening and closing in an attempt to adjust to the light. Jay's face slowly comes into focus, automatically putting my heart on alert when I see tears welled up in his eyes.

"Hey you..."

My emotions bubble to the surface. I feel like my heart has been ripped from my chest. Tears blur my vision, sharp and stinging, my breath coming in short rapid sounds, keeping time with my heartbeat.

"M-uh B-bb-ee," I choke out, but it's clear by the expression on Jay's face that he didn't understand me.

"Let me get a nurse." I hear Voight's gravelly voice reverberate from somewhere in the room.

"Hey, Hey. Shhh, it's okay. Hailey, it's okay. You re okay." Jay is leaning over me and I'm engulfed in his scent.

"O-r ss-n. O-r s-oh-n." I can hear myself make sounds, but it doesn't sound like me. It sounds like I ate gravel. My throat burns. I try to lift my hand to place on my belly again, but can't. No matter what I try, I cannot summon enough energy to move a single muscle in my body. It is as if I'm welded down on this freaking bed.

"Our son?" Jay repeats, finally understanding my incoherent mumblings. "He is good, Hailey…" Jay says and moves my hand over my stomach, placing his own over mine – I feel my taut skin beneath my fingers. Jay taps and pushes gently against my belly, and immediately I feel movement. Tears of relief fill my eyes and spill down my cheeks. My body shakes with sobs. "Hh-e oh-k?"

"Yes." Jay's expression gives way to a huge smile. "He's been very active and showing off to the ultrasound techs. Little flirt." Jay leans down, kisses my hair, my lips, and I let more tears fall. "He's good. Everyone's good."

The nurse comes in, and I blink my eyes several times, still trying to adjust. She patiently checks me over, while noting on the chart. "Can you tell me how you feel?"

I think about the question for a moment. My mind is still foggy, my throat burns, I feel throbbing pain everywhere, and most importantly, I can't seem to be able to move my limbs. "I c-n't..." I say and my voice garbles. "Mm-ve."

"Can't move? That's because you're weaning you off some strong sedatives. We've been slowly scaling it back, trying to get you to wake up while still managing your pain. You should be able to move about soon enough." She fiddles with the IV drip. "How's the pain, hon?" she asks. "On a scale of 1-10."

"Eig-t," I answer.

"Okay, I will let your doctor know and I'll have her come in and talk specifics with you." The nurse messes with a few more things beside the bed then leaves.

Jay takes my limp hand in his again, kissing it. I notice the dark half-moons under his eyes. He looks tired, and boyish. His uncombed hair is standing up in a hundred different directions. However, he is smiling so big I think his face will split in two. "Missed you," he whispers, brushing the hair from my face. "So much."

"How lo-g I be-n out?" I say, but my voice is a useless rasp.

"Today is the fourth day," he says.

I take a big breath and pain vibrates down my throat. "Whu-t sp-cifics the nurs- talk-ng aboh-t?" I manage to ask.

"Well," Jay pauses, his smile fades, and his eyes droop a little at the corners. "Your placenta has partially detached from the wall of your uterus." My eyes widen, but Jay is quick to explain, "But it's mild. Bed rest should keep you and the baby safe." Jay places his hand on my stomach – his eyes as firmly fastened on me as his hand is. "I know this is scary. But it's going to be okay."

My mouth opens to speak, but nothing comes out. This is all too overwhelming. I can't catch my breath. I feel like I'm suffocating, like I'm trying to draw in air through the tiniest of straws. I hear the beep, beep, beep of my heart monitor pick up the pace.

Jay immediately sees me spiraling. "Hey, hey, Hailey. Take a deep breath. Babe, look at me," his eyes hold mine as he says, firmly, "Everything will be okay. They have the best team looking out for you. This is just a small bump in the road."

Jay wraps his arms around me and I force myself to concentrate on the feel of the air filling my lungs. I exhale. Breathe deeply again. Four out. Six in. Six out. Whatever the nurse gave me, finally kicks in and I feel every muscle and nerve in my entire body relax, my entire body heavy and drowsy. Jay kisses my lips once more, and I close my eyes, my mind drifting to a welcome nothingness.

x

I continue a pattern of waking up for brief intervals for the next few days – more like a series of naps than the semi-coma I was in before. I'm more alert now, feeling more. The second degree burns on my arms and legs throb and my throat is still raw and sore.

Jay is sleeping by my legs now, I can feel him, I can hear him snore. I remain very still. I don't want to wake him. The guy hasn't left my side, which makes it impossible not to forgive him for neglecting to tell me he was going to propose to Erin. I know he's putting up a brave front for me, but deep down he is worried the abruption will worsen and I will have to deliver early. This fear tick tock between my ears day and night too.

I shift slightly in bed and Jay stirs awake.

"Hey," he says sleepily. "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's still dark out. Go back to sleep."

"No, no. I'm up," he says groggily, and rubs his hands over his face back and forth, trying to wake himself up. "What's on your mind?"

I reach out and run my fingers over the week-old stubble on his face. I'm good, seriously. Go back to sleep."

He nods, "If you say so," then lowers his head back down on the bed.

I try to go back to sleep, but I can't. I close my eyes for a while, but it is no use. I force myself to take a few deep breaths. I tell myself over and over it will all be okay – I'll be fine the baby will be fine. I know it. He has to be okay.

**Jay's POV**

I'm on my way to grab a cup of coffee in the cafeteria when I bump into Erin.

"Hey," she says. "How's Hailey?"

"Good. Stable for now."

"The baby?"

"He is doing good too. The doctors are giving Hailey these steroid injections to mature his lungs in case the placenta detaches more and she has to deliver early," I say, not wanting to delve into more details because it makes it more real. "What brings you here? Any new developments on the case?"

"Yes, actually. We think we have him in custody."

"Really?"

"Yeah, and Hank said Hailey got a good look at him. I want to see if she can pick him out of a line up."

"Where are you holding him?" I ask, trying to seem indifferent, though my pulse is racing.

She shakes her head. "Not a chance."

"Oh, c'mon. I promise I won't hurt him too badly."

She chuckles. "Yeah I bet. So, do you think she's up to looking at a few pictures?"

"I'm sure she is, but her mom is in there now," I motion with my head toward the room. "I am going to the cafeteria to grab a coffee, want to join?"

"Sure."

We walk to the cafeteria and pour ourselves a cup of coffee. We take an empty table in the corner and chat a bit about the case. It's weird staying out of the loop, but I know everyone has been working tirelessly to nail this prick.

"So how are you doing with all of this?" she asks.

"Not great," I tell her honestly. "I don't think my brain has processed any of it. Feel like I dreamed everything."

"Sounds about right," she says. "But you seem to be handling it well."

"Thanks." I feel sort of bad about how I reacted the last time we spoke. I shouldn't have taken my anger out on her. I was spiraling and completely out of line. She didn't deserve it. "Hey, um," I begin. "I'm sorry about my outburst in the waiting room. I wasn't thinking straight and I let my anger get the best of me. You were there for and you didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of all that. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You had every right to be upset with me."

"No," I shake my head. "I was –"

"—Listen, I shouldn't have said anything to Hailey. It's just…" Erin hesitates, shakes her head. "All I had was Bunny growing up, so I always imagined having a _real_ family someday. I hadn't thought about that until I saw you and Hailey together," she pauses. "So when you told me you were going to propose, but didn't..." she looks down and says quietly, "I felt sort of robbed of my _happily ever after_, you know? I was a little Jealous of Hailey."

Her words stun me. I stare at her, speechless.

Erin looks at me and shrugs. "You were the one guy I could see myself settling down with."

"I, uh…" My mind is still reeling from the impact of her admission. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything." Erin takes a sip of her coffee and gives me a smile, though her dimples are faint, and it doesn't come close to reaching her eyes. "Your anger was warranted. I'm the only who should be apologizing. I'm sorry. I can talk to Hailey, if you want."

"No," I shake my head, and give her a slight smile, not sure how to respond, but hoping the right words will come out. "It's all good. Hailey and I are good."

Leaning back, Erin sighs heavily and says, "Are _we_ good?"

"Of course," I reply. "And that family you've imagined? You'll have it someday. I'm sure of it."

"Life isn't a fairytale, Jay."

"It can be," I tell her. "Maybe you'll just have to let yourself be saved for once."

I take another sip of my coffee as Erin keeps her grin hidden behind her cup. Erin deserves her _happily ever after_. I hope one day she'll be able to experience what I have with Hailey, and when she does, I will be there to cheer her on.

"Should we go up?" she asks.

"Yeah, let's go."

* * *

**Thank you for reading. Tried to get this out as fast as my fingers could type. It was a heavy chapter, but wanted to end on a lighter note here. Thanks for all your reviews. Hope everyone is healthy and well. Cheers, D. **


	28. Chapter 28

**Jay's POV **

After a touch-and-go couple of weeks at the hospital, Hailey was finally able to return home. She is under strict bedrest and has been a good sport about it. She understands the ramifications if she doesn't, so she happily complies. Her mom has offered to come and help while I'm at work, which makes me relieved and glad. This is the one good thing to come out of this terrible ordeal – Hailey gets to spend time with her mom.

I ease the door open to our room and find Hailey sleeping. Returning home, a lot later than expected, I was worried she was hungry, bored, or both. I tiptoe to her side, not wanting to wake her, and carefully ease away the book she was reading. I close the book and place it on the side table, careful not to make a sound. But her eyes flutter open, sleepy and soft. She glances up at me, then smiles, holding out a hand.

"Hi," say says.

"Hi." I take her hand and sit on the bed. "Didn't mean to wake you up."

"It's okay," she says. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." I lean down and kiss her lips. My other hand finds its way under the blanket over her belly. "Feeling okay?"

"Yeah, w_e're_ good." She releases my hand and scoots up against the headboard. "What time is it?"

I glance at my watch. "Almost ten."

"So, the case is finally closed?"

I nod. "The Feds took everything. They will try him in New York."

"Good," she says softly, settling into my chest. "Glad that's over."

"Yeah, me too." Wanting to change the subject, I ask, "How was hanging out with your mom today?"

"Not bad," she says. "Sort of feels like I'm a kid again, staying home from school."

I chuckle. "When we stayed home from school, my mom used to make us grilled cheese and tomato soup. I always thought it was such a treat. But looking back, it was probably the quickest thing she could throw together while juggling work and us."

"You miss her don't you?"

I pull Hailey against my chest and kiss the side of her head. "Everyday. I wish I could just pick up the phone and call her. She would be so excited to be a grandma."

"I'm sure she's excited and looking down on us - protecting us."

"Then she's been working overtime," I say, thinking of everything we've been through in the last year. "I guess dad is there helping too."

Hailey nods and brings both of her hands to her belly. "Soon there will be another Halstead boy for them to watch over."

I smile. I've always wondered if my mom is watching over Will and I, helping us when we feel we can't possibly continue. Maybe she pops in for a visit every now and then when I wake up with her favorite song stuck in my head. Strange thoughts, I suppose, but it's nice to think they're lending a hand to help us when we need it.

"We still need a name," Hailey reminds me.

**Hailey's POV **

Two weeks.

I've been on bed rest for two whole weeks now; I feel I've atrophied. Kim and Vanessa want to throw me a baby shower, knowing I could use the distraction. Jay isn't sure it's a good idea. I know his concern comes from a place of love, but I'm going stir crazy. I think this baby shower will help take my mind off of things.

"Do _you_ think it's a good idea?" Jay asks. He's watching me like I've completely lost my mind, which yeah, is probably true.

"I think it's a great idea. I've been home on _this_ bed for two weeks now. If Kim and Vanessa wants to throw me a baby shower, I say let them." I feel a slight tightening of the muscles on my side, so I rearrange the pillows behind my back. "It will be a welcomed distraction."

"And you're not leaving the house?"

"No," I tell him. "They are coming here. They said I won't lift a finger. It will be a small gathering. It's not even a full shower, more like a sprinkle."

He rolls his eyes. "When?"

"This weekend, and you'll have to make yourself scarce."

"Oh, now I'm being banned from my own home?"

"Yes," I say.

His lips curl into a lopsided smile and I can see the fight leave his body. He looks cute, shirtless, wearing black pajama pants, his hair messy from sleep. "Alright. Have fun without me." He wraps his arms around me and I feel the cramping om my side again. "I think it will be good for you."

"Yeah, it will be nice to see everyone." I shift again and the aching shoots down my left side; something feels different. I push myself to a sitting position and straighten my back, but it still throbs.

"You okay?" Jay asks, rubbing circles on my back.

"Yeah, I think my muscles are stiff from laying on this bed so much." I press my fingers to my side, massaging the sore spot. "Here, help me up. I need to go to the bathroom again, and maybe stretch my legs in the process."

"You should have told me. I could've given you a massage."

"Maybe when I come back from the bathroom." I wink at him as he pulls me to my feet, but standing causes the pain to radiate like a band of searing heat across my pelvis and I cry out.

"What is it, Hailey?" I hear the panic in his voice.

Speaking from a hunched position, I grit out, "I don't know, Jay. It hurts."

Jay helps me sit back down on the bed, but as I do, I feel a gush of dampness spread between my legs. I shuffle back slightly and, because I'm only wearing Jay's T-shirt, the bright red splotch of blood seeps right into our cream colored comforter. Jay sees it at the same time I do and we both stare at each other in shock for a split second. I want to cry, but in this moment, all I feel is pain.

Somehow, Jay remains calm and in control. The panic that was in his voice moments earlier has vanished and in its place is calm concern. "We need to get to the Med. I'll call Dr. Asher on the way." He cups my face and forces me to look at him. "Everything will be alright. I'm right here." His tender kiss to the top of my head does nothing to calm me down.

Jay helps me stand and I can't say anything, there's nothing to say. In my state of numbed shock, I don't even realize that he has already finished getting himself dressed and that he's helping me step into my clothes. He pulls his T-shirt over my head and replaces with my top just as another surge of pain spreads in waves from my belly, around my sides, through my back, and down my legs.

"Breath through it," Jay says, his hand rubbing my back. More blood drips to the floor. "These are probably contractions. Dr. Asher said this might happen," he adds.

"She said it would happen if the abruption worsened." Tears fill my eyes. I'm feel ashamed for some reason, like I did something wrong. I don't know how, but this is obviously my fault.

"Hey, everything will be alright. Let's just get you dressed and we'll go to the hospital and get you checked out. Everything will be alright," he repeats, trying to comfort himself, as well as me.

He kneels down and lifts my ankle to step into my pants. After he's put my clothes and shoes on, he wraps my jacket around my shoulder and he pulls his over his frame. I watch him stand silently and scan the room to make sure that we have everything.

After he helps me into the truck, which hurts like a bitch, he digs his phone out of his jacket pocket and dials. His voice, though calm, shakes when someone picks up. He tells the person on the other end of the line that I started bleeding that that we're on our way. He hangs up and takes my hand in his, kissing my knuckles. "They are waiting for us."

We make eye contact for a brief second before I close my eyes as another sharp pain erupts from my belly. I let out a small cry, unprepared for the sheer magnitude of it. The surge overtakes my body then releases after a minute.

"Keep breathing through it. In and out, Hailey. Don't hold your breath."

I nod, tears freely rolling down my cheek. "It's getting worse."

"We'll be there in a few minutes."

I continue breathing through the waves of pain, some in the back, some in the abdomen. I'm terrified. It's like I'm the lone soul on a roller coaster destined to hell. I look out the window and count the trees lining the road, trying to keep the dark thoughts at bay. It has started to snow and a thin blanket covers everything in spotty white. God, I just want everything to be okay; I just want my baby to be safe.

When we arrive at the hospital I'm rushed into an exam room. The nurse pulls out a hospital gown and Jay helps me out of my blood-stained pants and into it. I notice his hands are shaking. I hold to his strong arms for balance and look into his eyes. There's fear in them. He wraps his arms around me and kisses the top of my head. He inhales the scent of my hair, and with his lips still pressed on my scalp, he says, "I'm right here, Hailey. It'll be okay." He sounds uncertain and afraid, but he's feigning confidence.

Dr. Asher enter the room and greets us, her words professional, but I can't help but notice the nervousness in them. I wither in pain as she quickly sets up the ultrasound machine. "Has the pain gotten progressively worse?"

"Yes." I grit through my teeth, the word barely a whisper as the tears spill over and pour down my cheeks. Jay moves closer and kisses the side of my head. He whispers into my ear, "Breathe, Hailey. Keep breathing."

I feel Dr. Asher move the wand over my belly, but when she stops abruptly, I can't help but feel the panic set in. I look at Jay and he's pale and obviously nervous. He reaches out for my hand and laces our fingers together. I brace myself for bad news, but what I hear instead, is, the unmistakable sound of my baby's sweet heartbeat. Jay and I look at each other in pure joy and relief. We let out a collective sigh of relief in clearing what seems to be the first hurdle.

"He's okay?" I ask, knowing she can hear the uncertainty and concern in my wobbling voice. The pain comes again and I sort of curl on the bed.

Dr. Asher rubs her hand on my calf as I breath through the pain. "Keep breathing, Hailey. You are having a contraction." When my body finally relaxes she says, "Baby is in slight distress and from what I can see here…" she pauses clicking a few buttons, "Your placenta has further detached from your uterus. We can wait and run more tests. But waiting will only buy us days. Or with extreme luck, a full week. I'm leaning towards not waiting."

"You want to deliver him today?" Jay asks, pressing his lips to our entwined fingers.

"Yes."

"I-Isn't it early?" I ask, my voice quavers.

"Thirty-two weeks is technically early, but the baby should be okay. He'll need to spend a couple of weeks in the NICU, but I don't foresee any complications."

Jay and I look at each other nervously and nod our heads.

"I will have a nurse come and bring you up to the labor and delivery floor," she says, "We'll get you prepped for an emergency C-section. And don't worry," she pats my leg. "We'll take good care of you and the baby."

Dr. Asher leaves and I look at Jay through tear filled eyes.

In turn, Jay wraps me in his arms, and coos into my ear. "We're meeting our son today! Isn't that great?" he whispers into my hair, caressing my back in an in vain attempt to calm me down. He pushes a piece of hair behind my ear and kisses away my tears. Gently pressing his lips to mine in a soft, innocent kiss, he says, "We're going to make through this. You and me, and our baby, are going to be just fine. My mom is looking down at us, remember? She hasn't let us down."

My lips curl into an involuntary smile. "He still doesn't have a name," I say.

"That's okay. We'll just wait to see what he looks like and then we can pick one," he says and kisses my forehead. "Maybe that will help us settle on a name."

I nod.

The nurse comes and Jay and I are separated – I go from hopeful to full panic. Everything is not okay.

**Jay's POV **

They wheel Hailey out and I'm shoved into a pre-op room. A nurse hands me a set of scrubs and says, "Put these on. I will come when they are ready for you."

I quickly pull on the scrubs, the blue socks over my shoes, and the cap. My hands shake so badly I find it nearly impossible to tie my mask. I start pacing back and forth unsure what to do with myself. I'm giddy, nervous, and overwhelmed. I'm trying to stay calm, but my stomach twists in large, unbreakable knots. The flurry of activity in and out of the delivery room only aggravates my anxiety. What's taking them so long? I should be in there with Hailey already. She must be scared out of her mind!

"Hey man," an out-of-breath Will says entering the small room. "Got your message. How are you feeling? I can hear your heart beating from here."

"I'm losing it," I say honestly. "What's taking them so long? Shouldn't they have called in me by now? Did something happen?"

Will chuckles. "Calm down, Jay. It takes a few minutes to get Hailey prepped and anesthetized. They also have to get all the equipment ready, since this is sort of unplanned. They will call you right before they are ready to deliver him." Will pats my back. "How's Hailey holding up?"

"Not great. I guess we're both a little nervous since we are 8 weeks away from his due date."

"He'll spend a couple of weeks in the NICU, but the little man will be fine."

The door to the OR opens and a nurse pokes her head out. "We are ready for you, Mr. Halstead."

I feel my heart pick up pace and I fight it. I need to stay calm and focused.

"Alright," Will says, squeezing my shoulders. "Everything will be okay. Just stay calm and enjoy the moment." Will pulls me to a hug and adds, "I'll be watching from the observing window."

I step into the delivery room and immediately notice how cold and sterilized it is. Nurses and doctors are everywhere, surrounding Hailey like a swarm of bees while she lays on the operating table, arms open, a sheet covering her from the waist down, her eyes red and brimming with tears. I rush to her side and sit by her head, kissing her temple. "I'm here now. Everything is going to be okay," I say. My heart is racing as I say it, even as I try – and fail – to inject a note of calm into my voice. "How are you doing?"

"I'm numb everywhere," she slurs the words and tries to smile, but her lips tremble.

"Hey, hey… It's going to be alright." I peal my mask off and kiss her lips. I hold her hand tight and keep kissing her forehead. I know she's scared. I'm petrified. Not even scared—petrified.

We can't see anything, but everything appears to be going well. The sea of nurses and doctors seem to have everything under control. They look calm and collected, but my mind is not at ease. Hailey looks drained. I can see the nerves, medication, and exhaustion are setting in. She vomits twice – normal effects of the anesthesia, a nurse assures me. Regardless, I feel so helpless.

After a few moments, Dr. Asher looks over the partition and says, "Hailey, you're going to start to feel a little pressure…"

I watch Hailey's face tense up.

"Is it hurting?" I ask and she shakes her head. Her eyelids open and close slowly, and each time they do, her eyes struggle again to focus. She's slowly losing consciousness and I have to fight to keep it together. "Hailey? Stay with me, okay? He'll be here any minute now."

She nods her head.

"More pressure, Hailey," Dr. Asher warns. I watch a nurse get up on a stool and start pushing on Hailey's stomach. Hailey throws up again. "Here he is," she announces. Then the world goes into a slow motion; I hold my breath. Seconds later I hear a thin, shrill cry. Dr. Asher holds our son over the partition so that Hailey and I can catch a glimpse of him. He is so small and wrinkly. Limbs no bigger than my fingers, hands the size of my thumbnail. Tears of relief and joy run down both of our faces. I cup Hailey's face and kiss her. And for the millionth time, I fall in love with her all over again.

"Do you want to do the honors, dad?"

The tears continue to flow as I cut the umbilical cord. Dr. Asher hands him off to a group of awaiting nurses and doctors who circle an isolette across to the room. I push on my toes to catch a glimpse of him as they clean and suction him under a heat lamp. He is pricked and prodded and the force of their movements seems enormous around his small frame.

My attention snaps back when an alarm begins sounding in the room.

"Blood pressure dropping…" a nurse casually notes.

I look down and Hailey's eyes are closed. I panic. "What's happening? Hailey?"

"She's stable, Jay," Dr. Asher asserts. "It's just the effects of the anesthesia."

I sit back down and cup her face in my hands. "Hailey, come back to me," I say and her eyes flutter open and stare up unfocused. I breathe a sigh of relief. "Stay with me, okay?"

"W-Where's he?" she slurs. She looks so weak.

"They are checking him over," I tell her and kiss her all over her face.

Moments later, a nurse announces, "Three pounds, six ounces. If I stretch him, seventeen inches. Apgar six." Then she comes around with our son wrapped like a burrito. Tiny eyes blink at us, a look of outrage on his little face. We stare in awe at the most beautiful thing we have ever seen. They unstrap Hailey's hand and she makes an effort to reach out to touch his little cheek.

"Hey, little man," Hailey says. New tears flood her eyes. I don't think she has enough room in her body to contain the amount of love she is exuding right now. "I-Is he okay?" she asks.

"Three pounds plus is good," the nurse answers. "The six Apgar isn't fantastic, but not bad for a thirty-two weeker. We have to take him to the NICU to get him fully checked out. Dad, you can follow us if you want."

"I-I don't think –"

"Babe, go, go …" Hailey says, slightly more alert. "Make sure he is okay."

I nod and lean down to kiss her lips, lingering longer than necessary. The love I feel for her and our son is bursting from me in every way. "I love you so much!"

"Love you, too," she slurs the words. "Keep an eye on him."

"I will. See you soon." I kiss her forehead and reluctantly follow the nurses to the NICU.

I stand behind a clear glass window watching a host of green-clad nurses work our son. I rest my forehead against the glass sensing that he is squalling, although sound doesn't seem to penetrate the thick pane. Little arms and legs fail in the air. I count ten fingers on red, wrinkled hands, and five toes on each flailing foot. Chills come over my body as I start to feel a new chamber in my heart growing. I don't move until a hand clasps my shoulder and squeezes. I turn and see Will, eyes red and glazed. We hug and cry all over again.

We pull apart and he says, "He's looking good. Do you have a name?"

I shake my head. "No. We've talked about it, but haven't settled on one yet," I say. "Do you know If Hailey's okay? She passed out for a minute there."

"She's good, out of surgery and in recovery. She'll drift in and out for the rest of today. You can see her as soon as she's settled in a room." He pats my back. "You did good, little brother. Mom would've been proud."

We turn back to the glass and look at _my son_. Holy shit, I have a son! I close my eyes and thank my mom for watching over my family today. Life is going to be great. I have big plans for this boy. He is going to conquer the world.

* * *

**Thank you for reading. Baby Halstead is here! Let me know what you think. Hoping everyone is safe and healthy. Cheers, D. **


	29. Chapter 29

**Jay's POV **

The past month has been an emotional roller coaster for Hailey and me, no doubt. After the fire, life began to feel like it had become more than I could handle. The blinders of uncertainty seemed to grow tighter and tighter around our world and I was beginning to suffocate. I was struggling and I was sinking; I was frustrated and I was scared. Then our worst fear came to pass – the abruption worsened and Hailey went into labor.

I still haven't fully wrapped my head around everything that happened in the last twelve hours. My brain is still playing catch-up. But despite the whirlwind in my head, this overwhelming sense of gratitude overrides all other emotions. So much could've gone wrong. I could've lost so much today, but only gained. As I look at my son this hits me so deeply that, believe me, I start to cry. I stand in front of his incubator with tears rolling from my eyes, thinking, _everything is okay. _

"You must be dad," a nurse says.

I take a deep breath and wipe my eyes with the sleeve. "Yes." I nod.

"You can reach inside and touch him if you want. See the holes on the side. Unlatch the panel and put your hand through there.

"You sure it's okay?" I ask.

"Of course. You want to gently lay your hand on him. Try not to pat or stroke. Too much stimulation will hurt, but the pressure will be comforting for him."

I slide my hand slowly through the circular openings, afraid to startle him. He is so small – the span of his shoulders and chest is about the size of my palm. I place my hand over his little legs and he twitches. Tiny features contract into a grimace.

"Oh no, did I hurt him?" I ask, snatching my hand away.

"No, it's okay. You're doing fine."

I place my hands over his little chest and he straightens both legs in a long stretch, before relaxing into a loose bundle. I think of all the times I held my hand over Hailey's belly, feeling his little feet kick and elbows thump. I touch his little hand and tiny fingers wrap around one of mine, squeezing strong and unequivocal. I feel myself smile, and it sits clumsily on my face – the first smile I haven't forced in the last twelve hours.

"Hey, bud…" I whisper. "You were supposed to cook for another two months. A smidge overeager, huh?" His little eyes blink open and stare in my general direction – as if recognizing the sound of my voice. "We've spoken before but not face-to-face like this." He eases the grip on my finger, only to tighten it again. "I'm your dad and I can't wait for you to meet your mom. She's amazing. You're going to love her."

I stand there with my hand gently over him. I hadn't believed I was capable of loving anymore more than I love Hailey, but this is a totally different kind of love – immediate and all-consuming. No getting-to-know-you required. I lose track of time watching him. I could have been minutes or hours or days, but I don't take my eyes off of him until a nurse gently taps my shoulder. "They have moved your wife to a patient room. You can see go see her now if you want."

"Oh, okay," I say and look down at the little fingers grasping my own. My heart is torn.

"Don't worry. We'll take good care of him."

I nod.

"You just hang in there, little man. I will be back as soon as I can."

I leave the NICU and head to the maternity ward. I enter Hailey's room and as I do I find a nurse there taking her vitals. "She'll waver in conscious for a little while, but she is doing great," she tells me. "If you have any questions, please, just ask anyone of us. We're here to help."

"Thank you," I murmur, moving past the bank of monitors to which Hailey is hooked up. I pull a chair alongside the bed and reach for her hand. I hold it carefully in both of mine, tracing my thumb along the edges of the surgical tape that holds the intravenous needle in place. I lean over and kiss her fingertips.

"Hailey, baby, I'm here," I whisper. "And you're okay. And our son's okay. He is pretty perfect. Oh, and the whole team is outside, every one of them. Your parents are here too. God, you did so good – I love you. I love you so much."

I close my eyes and squeeze her hand, and am startled when I feel a squeeze in return. I hear Hailey groan as her eyelids flutter slowly open.

"Hey, hey... How are you feeling?" Before she can form a word, tears begin streaming down her face.

"Our son? Is he okay?" she asks.

I lean down and kiss her. "He is good. I was just there. He's a peanut, but the doctor said he is doing really good." More tears flow down her cheeks. I kiss her again and a radiant, albeit tired smile spreads over her face.

"Did I hear you say that everyone's here?"

I nod. "Yes, the whole team, including your parents. Everyone has been so worried, which reminds me, I should probably give them an update."

"Jay…" Wiping at her eyes, she sniffles, "I want to see our son. When can I see him?"

"I'm not sure, I can ask a nurse," I say and she heaves in air, attempting to keep herself from crying although it doesn't work.

"Can you ask them?" she says. "Please."

"What? Now? You want me to ask them now?"

"Yes," she nods. "I need to see him."

"Okay, I can go ask them. I will also tell everyone you're both doing okay. I'm sure they are on pins and needles waiting to hear from me. In the meantime, get some rest. I will be back before you know it," I say and kiss her forehead. "I love you."

"love you too."

I ask the nurses if Hailey can see the baby tonight, but they quickly shoot me down. I update everyone in the waiting room and we celebrate together. It's nice to be happy and smiling again. Since visiting hours are nearly over, everyone leaves, but not before they make me promise to call them first thing tomorrow with updates. On my way back to the maternity floor I swing by the NICU just to get another quick update from the nurses and snap a few pictures for Hailey. She will be devastated when I tell her she can't see our son tonight, but maybe seeing a few pictures of him will ease her qualms.

I return quietly to the room, planning on not disturbing her if she is asleep, but I find her still awake. Her face is a mask of sadness and fear.

"I know I should, but I can't fall asleep," she says apologetically. "Did you ask the nurses? Can I see him?" she asks anxiously.

I shake my head. "Sorry, babe, not until tomorrow."

Hailey looks into my eyes, and I see it – I see her heartbreaking. She shakes her head, trying to come to terms with the fact she won't be holding her baby tonight. "D-Did you go see him? I need to know how he's doing?"

I fish my phone from my pocket and say, "I did go see him, and this time I took some pictures." Hailey snatches the phone from my hand. I watch her face contort slightly with a grimace, but then her features soften with a wide, genuine smile.

"He's beautiful." Her voice catches. She touches the screen and says, "I just want to hold him." Her words become tears and I begin to wonder how many tears a person can physically make in a single day.

I swallow the lump in my throat and try to sound normal. "You will. They just want you to rest a little." I embrace her carefully and she slumps into me. I kiss the top of her head. My heart breaks a million times for her and it'll break a million with every tear she sheds.

After her sobs subside I say, "They want to know if we picked a name for him yet."

Hailey dabs her eyes, trying to pull herself together. "We should name him after your mom…"

"You want to name our son Michelle?"

"No," she huffs a laugh and wipes her tears again.

"I thought Michael was off the table because of The Office. You said, and I quote, 'I will think of Dwight every time I have to yell, Michael!'"

"That's right," she nods. "Anyone that watched the show will agree with me."

I smile and shake my head. "Do you have a name in mind?"

"I was thinking… Milo. It's short and sweet and we can pair it with your mom's maiden name."

"Carter?" I say, heart completely overflowing. "Milo Carter Halstead," I repeat the name in my head and it rolls easily off my tongue. "It has a nice ring to it."

"I looked up the meaning. Milo means _soldier_. Considering _everything_, I think it's fitting."

I nod, tears unsuspectingly welling up in my eyes. "He is our little soldier, huh?"

"Yeah," she looks up at me with love in her eyes. "Just like his dad."

x

The nurse that had greeted me earlier returns, and is happy to see Hailey is awake, though her eyes are heavy and tired. "Good to see you up, Hailey," she says catching up on her chart. "I just saw your little boy and he is doing just fine. His color is good and his vitals are all right where we want them to be."

"I really want to see him."

"Assuming you get through the night well, we'll get you up there in the morning, I promise." She says. "You're heavily medicated right now and feeling no pain. That, unfortunately, won't be the case tomorrow, but we'll keep you as comfortable as possible."

Hailey's frustration is palpable. "Just a quick peek?" she insists.

The nurse smiles and pats Hailey's leg. "I will make sure the doctor sees you first thing tomorrow morning so she can clear you to go see your baby."

Hailey nods, relenting.

"In the meantime, your job is to rest," she adds. "I will be in to check on you in a few hours. If you start to feel any discomfort, press the call button and I'll right over."

Hailey nods.

"Get some rest now, hon."

And that's what we do. Squished together on the small bed, Hailey and I fall asleep.

**Hailey's POV **

I didn't sleep well. My mind is working overtime. I feel exhausted, weak, and still slightly medicated. I feel sort of empty, too. Milo was growing inside of me for so long, and it just isn't the same without him. I know I'm driving the nurses insane with my insistence on seeing him, but can you blame me? All they tell me is to be patient. _Be patient! _I don't care if I had just had surgery; I just want to see my son!

Finally, Dr. Asher comes to check up on me and gets right down to business. "How are you feeling?" she asks.

"Like I just had a baby." I'm grouchy and in pain.

"The first morning's the worst," she says. "Let's see how things look." Carefully peeling back the dressings, she checks on the incision site and gently palpates my stomach. It feels like she's thrusting a piece of hot iron against my skin and not her fingers. The pain is unbearable I cry out. Jay is immediately at my side.

"I'm sorry, Hailey, but I have to check for problems. I will have the nurses give you something that'll at least take the edge off."

"That would be great, thank you," I say through clenched teeth.

"I spoke to the neonatologist and the little man is doing great, all things considered," she says by way of preamble. "But that doesn't mean he is completely out of the woods – you need to be aware of that. Your son will need extra attention for a few weeks, but the doctor doesn't see him needing aggressive treatments. In the meantime, you are welcome and encouraged to go visit him."

"Can I go see him now?" I ask, ready to jump out of the bed (if I could). I even attempt to sit straighter despite the pain is causes.

"Yes, of course. Do you guys have any questions for me?"

Jay and look at each other, shaking out heads. "Not right now," he answers. "But we'll let you know."

She nods and looks pointedly at me. "Hailey, take it easy, okay? You just had major surgery."

I nod. "I will."

"Congratulations once again, and have a good day."

"You too," Jay says, then turns to me. "You ready to go?"

"I've never been so ready to do anything in my entire life," I answer.

Jay eases me into a wheelchair, sore and stitched up, hurting all over, and wheels me to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. We ring the bell outside the door and a loud voice comes over the speaker system, "Yes, may I help you?"

"It's Jay, Jay Halstead. We are here to see our son," he says, smiling from ear to ear.

The door buzzes, allowing Jay to open it. As we enter, we are instructed to don a protective covering that drapes over our entire body.

"This is just precautionary for anyone entering the NICU," the nurse informs us. "I'm Erica, by the way, one of the neonatal nurses in charge of your son's care."

"I'm Jay and this is Hailey," Jay introduces us.

"So, you're Will's brother, right?"

Jay nods. "Yes."

The nurse smiles. "He's been by a few times already."

I look at Jay and the corners of his mouth curl up into a big smile. Milo is so lucky to have Will as his uncle.

"Has the doctor already talk to you?" Erica asks and we nod. "Good. Let's go see the little guy."

After completely covering up, Jay pushes me over to an incubator on the opposite side of the room, past several individual curtains that enclose other incubators. Approaching, I recognize our son right away. He is lying on his back with only a diaper on. The diaper looks huge on his tiny body, adrift in a terrifying sea of tubes and monitors. His tiny face swims out of focus, and I realize tears have filled my eyes.

Erica probably notices the anxious expression etched on my face and quickly says, "Lots of wires, huh? I know this looks a bit daunting but they are just helping us track his vitals. The three leads on his belly and chest are keeping track of his heartbeat and breathing. The band on his little foot is a blood pressure cuff. As you can see, he is on breathing support, but I don't see him needing it for much longer." She offers me a kind smile.

"So, he's doing okay?" I ask.

"He is doing great. Vitals have been stable. The doctors did their morning rounds a couple of hours ago and didn't flag anything. Would you like to hold him, mom?"

Mom! I'm someone's mom. "Can I?" I ask, my heart jumping at the prospect. All I want is to hold him.

"Yes. I'm going to disconnect the tube from his nose for a second while I take him out, so his alarms will go off, but it is okay." Erica disconnects the tubes and gently picks him up, trailing a tangle of cords. She carefully and deftly tucks him underneath my hospital gown and reattaches the tube on his nose. "I know it's instinctive to want to stroke his hands or cheeks, but keep it to a minimum because his skin is still very sensitive to touch. Hold him like this with your hands cupped around him. It makes him feel safe."

I wrap my hands around his tiny body and look into his little face. This overwhelming feeling of love and joy comes over me. "Hi, sweet boy…" I kiss the top of his warm head and his scent fills my nose. It is a sweet, beautiful, intoxicating smell. I inhale deeply.

"Before I go," she says. "Does the little fella have a name yet?"

"He does," Jay says and looks at me with a proud smile on his face. "His name is Milo. Milo Carter Halstead."

"That's a beautiful name. I'll make a note of it on his chart." Erica smiles and adds, "If you need anything just press the call button here and I'll come right over."

"Thank you," Jay says and pulls up a chair next to me. "Hey, little man."

I stare at Milo's face, memorizing and then rememorizing every feature. He has a tiny nose and the most perfectly shaped lips. His little ears are perfect too. I pull his hat back and see just a bit of light-colored fuzz on top of his little head. It feels so good to finally have him in my arms, to hold him up to my cheek, to feel his warmth. Tears free fall down my cheeks.

"Isn't he perfect?" Jay says, cupping his little head.

"So perfect." My voice is shaky and I breathe deep, trying to control my emotions, but I'm ragged. Completely undone.

Jay cups my face between his hands and using his thumbs wipes away my tears. He leans down and places a soft kiss on my lips. "You are amazing. You did so good."

A small, watery chuckle escapes my lips. "_We_ did good," I correct him. I don't know that I could have done any of it without him. Jay was my rock, the one steady thing through it all.

"I didn't do anything. I just watched you shine. From now on, you have dibs on the remote."

I chuckle and baby Milo twitches and squirms on my chest. "Sorry, bud, I'll keep my voice down, okay?"

Baby boy stretches his little arms out and Jay offers him his hand. Milo grabs it and wraps his tiny palm around dad's finger.

"Strong grip," Jay says and his eyes glaze over. "Still can't believe he is real."

"I know, right? I can't tell who he looks like, yet."

"Right now he looks like my granddad. All wrinkly, no teeth, little-to-no hair."

I chuckle, softly this time. "He does look like a little old man."

We stay in the NICU until I can no longer deal with the pain of being upright for so long. But I don't know what hurts more, the throbbing on my stomach or having to leave Milo behind. It feels completely unnatural to not have him with me. it's like part of my heart has migrated outside my body, and I'm helpless to keep it safe. I just hope he can grow big and strong quickly so we can take him home.

* * *

**Thank you for reading! I very much appreciated your reviews on the last chapter. You guys know how to make a girl happy! **

**Did ya'll hear about Rojas leaving CPD? Sad to see her go, but now I have this awful feeling that she might not be the only one leaving. I haven't heard anything from the other cast members and I'm getting a bit nervous. Am I the only one overthinking this? **

**Anyways, I hope everyone is safe and healthy. Cheers, D.**

**ps. For those unfamiliar with the name Milo, it is pronounced "My-Low" **


	30. Chapter 30

**Hailey's POV**

The tears stream down my face and onto my discharge papers as Jay wheels me out the back door of the hospital. Will's idea, to save me from seeing moms holding their new babies, while my arms are empty. I feel disconnected, strange like I shouldn't be here because an important piece of me is missing. I've carried Milo with me for months, and leaving him feels unnatural and wrong. It' by far the hardest thing I've ever had to do.

The ride home is quiet, solemn. It is a beautiful, clear day. I know Jay is internalizing his pain (as he does), but when he turns to me I can see the pain in his eyes. "We'll be back first thing tomorrow," he says, reaching over the console and grabbing my hand.

I nod.

Before we left, we've worked out a schedule to be with Milo for the next few weeks. The neonatologist thinks we'll be able to take him home in 3-4 weeks. Despite Milo's great prognosis, I can't help but worry that something will happen and I won't be there.

"He is in good hands," Jay says as if reading my thoughts. "Milo is not in any immediate medical danger." Jay is right. Every day has already brought what seems like infinitely positive gains for our little guy. He is thriving and has even started receiving some of my breastmilk. "We are ten minutes from the hospital," Jay adds. "Six if we turn the sirens on. If anything happens they will call us and we'll be there in a heartbeat."

I nod again. "I know all that, it's just…" I let the sentence go unfinished. Can't put my heartbreak into words. It's a strange dichotomy, feeling happy and sad. Laughing or smiling one moment, crying the next.

"This is shit," he declares.

I nod. This _is_ shit. Who knew that the dark, tangled knot of hurt in my chest could be explained so simply?

Jay brings my hand to his lips and presses a kiss against my knuckles. "My heart is breaking too," he tells me frankly. "But it's just for a few weeks and he'll be home."

When we arrive at our place, to our surprise, everyone is there. A sort of welcome home party combined with the baby shower I never had. Our living room is done up with blue streamers and balloons that say 'it's a boy.' I'm speechless. Totally, completely. Tears spring to my eyes as I look at everyone's smiling faces. "Damn hormones," I mutter, dabbing at my lower lids with the edge of my sleeve. But I can't help it. I'm genuinely touched.

"Did you think we would forget about the baby shower?" Vanessa asks and pulls me into a hug, followed by everyone else.

This little gathering ends up being a welcomed distraction for us, helping take our minds off not bringing Milo home. Though the pain still sits like a vice in my chest, it is momentarily stifled by the celebration of his life, that he is here and safe.

The doorbell rings and Vanessa goes to open the door. "Hey, Sarge Come on in."

"Over here, Sarge," Kim calls out.

"Don't anyone get up," Hank says as he enters our living room. "I just stopped by with a present for the little guy." He holds a wrapped package out to me and I make to stand, but Jay puts a hand on my shoulder and gets up for me.

"You didn't have to," Jay says.

"Open it!" Kim says excitedly.

"Yeah, let's see it," Vanessa chimes in.

Jay hands me the box and I tear into the wrapping. I open the box and pull out an authentic baby-sized police uniform and a little matching hat with a shiny leather visor. Pinned to the front of the shirt is a miniature Chicago police badge with Milo's name engraved.

"It's perfect," I say, clutching the little blue shirt to my heart.

"This is pretty awesome," Jay says. "Didn't know they made'm this size."

"It was Erin's idea. She sends her warmest wishes."

"Tell her thank you," I say.

"Will do."

"Okay then," Kim pipes up and claps her hands together. "Let's open all the presents then!"

We open all the other presents while eating our weight in deep dish. The mood is light and easy, and it is exactly what we needed after such an emotional, draining few days. I even find myself smiling a bit more, feeling almost human again, full of love and hope.

"So, when you do get to bring the little man home?" Adam asks.

"The doctor said it might take him a few weeks," Jay answers. "But he is doing really good. He's even breathing on his own, though still on oxygen."

"That's good," Adam replies.

"How are you feeling, Hailey? C-sections can be rough," Kim says.

Her question sort of catches me by surprise. I can't even begin to describe how I'm feeling, how I've been feeling. I decide to answer as superficially as I can. "Still recovering. Sore. Everything happened so quickly that my head is still playing catch up."

"I can't imagine," Vanessa nods. "We got a text saying you were at the hospital then minutes later we got another text saying the baby was born."

"My memory from that day is spotty. I only have vague recollections of the actual birth."

"That's because she was on drugs," Jay says teasingly.

"And they were _wonderful_," I add, and everyone laughs.

"Well, enjoy the calm now because soon enough the little man will be running around raising all kinds of hell," Kevin says.

We all chuckle and I sort of envision it in my head. This little mini version of Jay and I turning our home upside-down – the same way he has already upturned our lives on its head but in the best way. I look around and everything looks the same, but so much has changed. This becomes more evident when everyone leaves and it is just Jay and me.

I find myself in Milo's nursery looking at his empty crib. I remember when Jay assembled it. He came out of the nursery, handed me a bunch of nuts and bolts from the assembly kit, and said, _I didn't need these_. The longing for Milo, which had been tucked away, resurfaces, and tears blur my vision.

"Hailey."

Jay appears in the doorway. He walks up to me slowly and then wraps his arms around me in a strong, solid hug. He kisses my temples and whispers in my ear, "I love you."

Tears stream continually down my face, but they're not all bad tears. There are some happy tears there, some tears which come from relief at having Jay as the person I get to share my 'happy-sads' with. "I love you too."

After a beat of silence, he carefully turns me to face him, and says, "You okay?"

"I'm a hot emotional mess right now," I tell him honestly. "And so very sore."

He tips my chin up and nods knowingly. He slowly lowers his lips just above mine and brushes them lightly. Then he kisses my cheek. My nose. My forehead. "It's been a long few days. How about we try to get some shut-eye. I heard that once the baby is here, we won't be getting much sleep."

Jay's hand grips mine, and he laces our fingers together. He pulls me to our bedroom as I silently look forward longingly to those long, sleepless nights.

**Jay's POV**

Hailey is up at the crack of dawn, too anxious to sleep a second longer. My eyes open groggily to find her sitting at the edge of the bed, ready. Her hair is pulled back and held with a clip. Loose strands curl around her face. With no makeup, the sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheekbones is visible. She looks beautiful.

"Morning," I say groggily.

A sweet gentle smile sweeps her face; gently she cups her hand on my cheek. "Morning."

I push myself up and peck her lips. "What time is it?" I ask, yawning, and stretching my arms. It seems like I just went to sleep an hour ago.

"Almost six," she says. "I want to catch the night nurse before she leaves."

I nod and yawn again. "You look beautiful, by the way."

"Oh stop," she scoffs, unable to keep the smile off her face. "Go get ready so we can go see our son."

"Yes ma'am."

I kiss her lips once again and jump in the shower. I get dressed and when I go into the kitchen Hailey is waiting with a cup of coffee in hand.

"For you," she says. "Ready to go?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Chicago hasn't completely woken up yet. The streets are still empty and the traffic is light. We make it to Med in a few short minutes. Hailey's excitement is palpable and the sheer energy she exudes is off the charts. She can't wait to see Milo. My heart is also jumping at the prospect of seeing him. We check into the NICU and Hailey beelines for Milo's incubator.

"Hey, little man," Hailey says. She rubs her hands together to warm them, before placing them inside the incubator. She cups Milo's fuzzy head, cooing softly over the sounds of the NICU. "How's he doing?" she asks the nurse.

"He's doing great," she answers. "Gained about an ounce in the last two days. We've started giving some feedings by mouth."

"Oh, that's great!" Hailey says. "I know that for us to be able to take him home he needs to take all his feedings by mouth."

"That's right. In a few days, I think he will be strong enough to nipple some of his feeds."

Hailey smiles, that brilliant, room-brightening smile of hers. "Can't wait, and speaking of feedings, I need to pump," Hailey says, and yes her breasts are visually full.

"I will close the curtain to give you some privacy. Would dad like to hold him while mom pumps?" The nurse asks, surprising me.

"Me? Really?"

"Yes. Have a seat and lose the shirt. We'll do skin-skin."

"Okay," I say.

The nurse pulls the curtain around us and goes about untangling Milo from the tubes and wires, holding him like a football. His tiny fists and feet pump, his face turn bright red, and he lets out a small, enraged shriek. I tug my shirt over my head and she gently places him against my chest. She drapes a blanket over us, and he squirms a bit before setting. I look down at his perfect little face and for just a moment, I see Hailey there.

"Remember not to stroke him," the nurse says. "Firm touches only."

"Got it," I say, shifting my arms to hold him securely.

Milo breathes soft gasps, warm against me, his tiny bow-shaped mouth sucking in his sleep. He seems longer and less scrunched up, his skin is not so translucent and red. My heart fills to the brim and jerks with the warm surge of pure love. My eyes suddenly damp.

"The feeling? It takes you by surprise, doesn't it?" Hailey says, picking up on the surge of emotion rippling across my face.

"Yeah," I answer and look up at her. Her eyes soften, and she seems to stare into my depths. Like she knows exactly what it feels like inside. "It's surreal."

Hailey smiles, big, true, and beautiful. We sit in silence for a while, absorbing the moment. Just the three of us. Everything else is forgotten. When Hailey is finished pumping, she pulls a chair closer and says, "I think his cheeks are filling out."

"Yeah, he's getting a little chubby." I cup his little head and say, "You gotta grow big and strong buddy, so we can take you home."

"Yes, big and strong, just like your old man," she says and I chuckle.

"Old man?"

"You are a father now, Jay. Officially ancient by society standards."

"Age is just a number."

"You tell that to the crow's feet forming at your eyes," she says cheekily.

"You're lucky I'm holding him," I say.

She takes a deep breath and then lets it out in a chuckle. "We'll be good parents, won't we?"

I pucker my lips and she leans in, pressing a kiss against mine. "You'll be the very best," I say.

She rolls her eyes, hitting me playfully on my arm. "You'll be an awesome dad."

I smile at that. "Only because of you."

I keep Milo on my chest for nearly an hour. His heartbeat stays strong and his oxygen saturation hovers in the high nineties. It does tire him out eventually. He begins to twitch and grimace, and his heartbeat slows, triggering an alarm.

"Looks like the little man needs to rest," the nurse says, pulling the curtain open around us.

"Is he okay?" I ask.

"Oh, he's fine." She lifts Milo from my chest and I immediately miss his warmth against me. "He is just a little overstimulated," she explains.

I nod reluctantly, sadly. My chest tightens with a twinge of disappointment. "You didn't get to hold him," I tell Hailey.

She smiles. "It's okay. I'm glad you got to," she says. "But I will hog him tomorrow."

"Deal."

* * *

**Thank you for reading. I'm sorry I took so long to post this chapter; life is sort of crazy. But today I decided to sit and get something out. It's not as long, but I hope it's substantial enough to please ya'll. Thank you again for your support. Reading your comments has been the highlight of this shit year. I hope you are all happy and healthy. For the US readers – VOTE. **


	31. Chapter 31

**Jay's POV **

My main man, Milo, has been in the NICU for nearly four weeks now. He continues to do extremely well and his homecoming seems to be getting closer every day. We don't have a date yet, but he had his car seat test and passed with flying colors. He has also been stepping it up with the feeds and Hailey has even got to nurse him. He latched pretty quickly, in my opinion. He did fuss for a good 5 minutes, but his sucking instincts kicked in and he nursed for a total of seven minutes before he tapped out. Our hope is that he comes home soon, but more importantly that he comes home when we are 100% certain that all his little preemie issues are resolved.

Since I've been back at work, I've only been able to go visit him sporadically. But yesterday I got 30 minutes of good cuddle time with him. Hailey spends nearly all her time at the NICU. I'd lying if I said the stress isn't getting to us… it is. Though it is not overwhelming and we are keeping a positive spirit as we look forward to bringing Milo home. I just want to fast forward until he is home, you know?

It's nearly 6pm when I arrive at Med to pick up Hailey. She wrapped a scarf around her neck, and it frames her face perfectly. When I come to a full stop, Hailey quickly jumps into the passenger seat and leans forward to meet me halfway for a kiss. Her cheeks are rosy with cold, and her icy blue eyes are glistening.

"It's freezing out there," she says, shaking off the chill.

"I know," I say and turn up the heat. "How's our little man?" I ask.

"Good," she says, rubbing her hands together in front of the hot air. "They are moving him to an open crib to see how he does."

"Oh wow," I say pulling out of the parking lot and into the street. "Does that mean—"

"—Yes," she interjects excitedly, unable to contain her joy. "Next week could be _the_ _week_."

"Really? Just in time for Christmas."

She nods and bursts into a bright, happy laugh, and it is contagious. She keeps smiling and her whole face lights up and all that does is make me smile even more. I try to keep my eyes on the road and not stare at the way she's looking at me or the way her cheek gets that dimple on one side that just wrecks me every time I see it.

"That would be fantastic," I say, thinking how wonderful it would be not to spend Christmas in the NICU.

"A true Christmas miracle," Hailey says.

I turn to her and chuckle. "A Christmas miracle?"

"Listen, the Hallmark channel is on at the hospital all day long," she says, her tone defensive.

"How many movies have you watched?"

"Not relevant." It's dark, but I think she's cringing, and it's kind of adorable seeing her all flustered. "And anyway, am I wrong?"

I shake my head. "No, you're not wrong. It would be a Christmas miracle," I say and intertwine my fingers with hers.

"But in the event, we can't bring him home for Christmas," she begins. "I can always sneak him out under my shirt," she adds casually. "No one will notice, right?" she jokes, I think.

"Someone will notice."

"If you think about it, I'm merely taking what's mine. It's not like I'm stealing a random baby."

"Of course not," I say.

"Exactly."

"But let's just keep this between us, okay? I rather not have hospital security give me a pat-down every time I exit the building."

"It's not stealing if it is yours."

"You know that won't hold up in court, right?"

I glance at Hailey and she's wearing a broad grim. She is amazing. Her resilience and optimism are inspiring, even when she's conspiring to commit a crime. Every day I'm speechless with her strength and unconditional love. I bring her hand to my lips and plant a gentle kiss on the back of it. "Let's get married," I blurt out the words.

She casually lifts her left hand, showing me her ring finger. "I already said yes."

"I know, but –"

"What? You want to get married right now?"

"Actually, I do."

"Oh." She draws the word out for several syllables.

"I just…" I bite my lip, unsure why I'm so hesitant to just tell her. "I can't wait to be your husband." Her eyes widen and immediately start to sparkle. "So what do you say?"

She chuckles incredulously. "Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"I don't think the courthouse is open right now, and I want Milo to be there."

I nod, pulling into our driveway. "So, you wouldn't mind if we just eloped?"

She shakes her head. "Of course not. I can't wait to be your wife."

I put the truck in park and reach over, cupping the side of her face. I thread my fingers through her hair and hold the back of her head as I hover my lips over hers. "I love you," I whisper and pull her in, my mouth sinking into hers as she sighs against my lips. I pull her closer, dragging her out of her seat, into my lap. Hailey follows my lead, swinging her legs over the center console and straddling me. It is a tight fit, but we make it work. I know she's still healing and nothing will happen, but it's nice to fool around like we are two sneaky teenagers with a curfew.

Leisurely we kiss, savoring the moment – slowly, deliberately. Eventually, her cold hands find themselves underneath my sweater and I flinch.

"Too cold?" she chuckles against my lips.

"Yes," I answer. "If I didn't know any better I would say you are dead." She begins to slide her hands from underneath my shirt, but I still them there. I nuzzle her nose with my own and nibble the corner of her mouth. Her eyes flutter closed on a sigh. In the dim glow from the street light above, she looks absolutely stunning.

"Our neighbors are going to think we are some weirdo deviants," she whispers.

"Let them," I breathe.

"Probably not a good idea."

I chuckle against her ear and gently tug the lobe with my teeth. "You want to go inside?"

"No," she chuckles.

I pull back and tuck a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. "Five more minutes then?"

She nods.

I lean in and lose myself in her lips, the feel of her kissing me already sending me to my personal heaven. I could actually kiss her all night long. We kiss and kiss and kiss. I have no idea how much time goes by. But eventually, we untangle ourselves from one another, stepping out into the real world. It's cold and the wind has picked up, but I hope Hailey knows I will always be there to warm her up.

**Hailey's POV **

I feel different.

Some days it's a good different. Other days…

I spend my days in the NICU with Milo, and there isn't any time for me to be myself. I'm tired all the time, I never have a moment to think. I feel – I don't know – thinned out as if I've stretched myself to cover so much that now I lack any substance. I know this is all temporary, and it will get better. In fact, just the prospect of bringing Milo home had Jay and I celebrating (making out) in the truck a few days ago. We just can't wait for the hums, beeps, and nerves of the NICU to be replaced with giggles and squeals and countless Milo smiles.

Milo.

This little dude has my entire heart, with his pink little face, narrow blue eyes, and a cute button nose. He is such a good baby. I know every parent says that about their kid, but Milo is just cool, calm, and collected. The nurses are always surprised when he is upset about something. While our world is swirling about at the pace of a headless chicken on blow, Milo doesn't seem to notice or care for that matter. Like Jay, he seems content as content can be.

I'm getting ready for the day – a pretty big day, in fact – when I catch my reflection in the mirror. _Who is that stranger?_ My eyes especially catch the lower part of my abdomen; the cesarean incision above the line of my panties is still bright red and it makes a smiley face with the combination of my engorged breasts looking back at me. My abdominal muscles are soft and I'm back to looking like I indulged in a few too many burritos.

"You look beautiful," murmurs Jay's warm voice. I turn and there he is, checking me out shamelessly.

"There's definitely more of me to love," I tell him, pinching my muffin top. Before I can turn back to the mirror, he takes me by surprise and presses his lips against mine. It is a warm kiss, full of tenderness, my body responds immediately to his touch. It feels like it's been forever since I've had his hands on me, and even after all this time I still get butterflies.

"You look stunning today and every day." He brushes his mouth across mine once again. "I will keep remind you of this for the rest of our lives."

"My body just feels foreign right now," I tell him honestly.

"Not to me," he whispers and begins placing light kisses on my neck. I can feel him smile against it. "Your amazing body grew our baby and I can't think of anything sexier than that." He moves his lips over my new curves —sucking, kissing, and licking every inch of my skin. It brings so much calming satisfaction that I simply close my eyes and take it all in – every sensation, every kiss, every touch. Eventually, tears form in my eyes. I love this man.

He cups my chin, then gently wipes the tears dry with the pad of his thumb. "Can't believe you're going to officially become my wife today."

I smile as a welcomed warmth course through my body. "Must be your lucky day." I pause. And it hits me. "Ohmigod, we're getting married today."

"Indeed," he says smiling and places another tender kiss on my lips. "You still want to do this, right? It is not a big deal if you want to back out and have a big wedding instead."

"No, this is perfect."

He nods. "I have to head to the hospital now to make sure Will has everything in order. You never know with him. When is Burgess coming?"

"She'll be here soon," I tell him. "She stopped to get more hair products of something."

His eyes darken and a tender smile touches his lips. "I will see _you_ at the altar," he says and kisses me on the forehead. "Don't be late."

"I won't."

Jay leaves and I can't believe will be marrying him today. I will get to love him and be loved by him for the rest of my life. The ceremony will be intimate and it will take place in the hospital chapel so Milo can be there. Our family and closest friends will also be in attendance and I can't wait to finally be his wife.

The doorbell rings and I put on a robe and greet a very excited Kim. She's so wired up she can barely standstill. "You're getting married today!" she squeals.

"I know."

"C'mon, we gotta lot of work to do," she says waving her hands at me. "Let's get this party started."

Kim brought a simple white silk dress that is absolutely perfect. She thought of everything, even brought me a nursing strapless bra, shoes, and a bouquet of red roses. She fusses over me and my hair for nearly an hour and a half, until she's satisfied I look like a bride. I stand in front of the mirror and look myself over. This time a smile pulls at the corners of my lips. My blond hair is swept to the side and pinned with wavy curls over one shoulder. The dress fits perfectly and I'm amazed at how flattering it looks.

"Perfect," I hear Kim say from behind me, and I turn to look at her.

"I can't believe you pulled this off," I say amazed.

She looks me up and down, admiring her work. "Halstead is going to bawl his eyes out," Kim says, her smile a little wicked.

I chuckle, running my hands over the silky fabric of the dress. "Thank you, Kim. You have no idea…" my voice trails off as fresh tears break out.

"Don't cry, you'll ruin your make-up," Kim says, carefully dabbing my eyes with a tissue. "No crying allowed."

I look at the ceiling and take a few deep breaths. "I will try my best."

She takes a deep breath and says, "You ready?"

"Yes."

**Jay's POV **

I'm pacing in front of the small hospital chapel.

Should I be this nervous? I suppose this churning feeling is totally normal. This is a big moment – one that will be ingrained in my mind remember forever. I just hope Hailey is not regretting eloping. Although she's made it clear this was perfect, I can't help but wonder if she'll feel differently about it.

"Jay, you're going to wear a hole on the carpet," Will says, cuddling Milo, who conked out after his lunch, into the crook of his arm. "What are you even nervous about?"

"I don't know," I shrug. "I'm getting married today. I'm supposed to be nervous, right?"

"But in a good way," he says. "As in, excited."

"I'm excited. But I keep thinking that maybe Hailey wanted a big wedding, you know? I don't want her to ever settle—" I look at Will and he is not listening to me anymore, but looking down at Milo. "Will?"

"What?" He looks up.

I sigh. "Nothing."

"Jay, if Hailey wanted a big wedding she would have said so. She's not one to keep her opinions to herself. Just take a deep breath and enjoy the moment."

I slump next to him on the front pew and pull my collar away from my throat, rolling my neck from shoulder to shoulder. This suit is starting to feel too tight. I motion for Milo and Will reluctantly eases him into my arms, carefully arranging the wires attached to him. "How's he doing?"

"Great. His stats are stable." He motions to the monitor. "No drops in oxygen. Heartrate steady. Little man is doing better than you."

I chuckle and lean down to kiss his little face. I think he looks like Hailey.

"Did you see his hair?"

"Not this again," I say, letting out a sigh.

"You can deny it as much as you want, but the fuzz on his head is red."

"He does not have red hair," I say, cupping his little head. "He barely has any hair, for that matter."

"You'll see—"

The doors behind us open and Ruzek comes in, "Hey, they are here. You ready?"

I take a big breath and nod. "Yes."

To Will's delight, I ease Milo back into his arms and we both stand shoulder-to-shoulder at the front of the chapel. Music starts up, a string number, and everyone stands up.

The doors open and I'm completely awestruck – my heart stops, and for a moment so does the world. Hailey looks absolutely stunning – a sight that will remain emblazoned in my heart forever. Holding onto her father's arm, she begins taking slow steps down the short aisle. Our eyes meet and my emotions threaten to overwhelm me. Tears prick my eyes as I watch her walk towards me.

I don't even bother to blink the tears away, knowing that only more will come. Straight from my heart, which is overflowing with love for her – love and gratitude. I don't know what my life would've become if she hadn't come along if she hadn't loved me the way she did. Hailey's love healed me in ways I'm still appreciating.

Hailey reaches the altar and tears are also rolling down her cheeks. I shake Frank's hand and take Hailey's hand in mine, kissing it. "You look so beautiful, babe," I whisper.

"You look really handsome too," she says, then turns to Will and stretches out her arms to take Milo.

Will eases Milo into her arms, and Hailey's a total pro. She effortlessly maneuvers the wires around her, cuddling him close. She gently squeezes him and plants a kiss on his little head. "Hi, baby."

Milo is still slumbering the day away.

We look more deeply into each other's eyes than I can ever remember. She smiles, another tear rolls down her cheek.

_I love you_, she mouths.

_I love you too_, I mouth back.

The justice of peace, standing behind a small podium, begins his remarks. I don't really know what he's saying; I can't concentrate to save my life. My focus is on Hailey. And Milo. And the life we will build together. Thankfully, the ceremony is short. Hailey hands Milo back to Will and we say our vows and exchange rings. Before we know it, the justice of peace says, "You may now kiss the bride."

And I do.

I cup her face and kiss my wife, and we get a round of applause.

"Forever," she whispers against my lips.

"Forever," I repeat.

* * *

**Thank you for reading. This is the last chapter, but I promise to write an epilogue. I won't be sentimental here, but it's been a pleasure to take you guys on this crazy journey with me. Writing has been an ****important**** outlet for me, especially now with everything that's going on. I love you guys and every one of your reviews. Stay safe and healthy ****out there****. Cheers, D. **


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